Page 19 of Beneath Scales and Shadows
“Is that what this is?” she asked, her voice low. “Devotion?”
His hands paused. “This is restraint,” he admitted. “My desire to claim you wars with my respect for your awakening.”
The confession hung between them, heavy with implication. She didn’t respond, but her pulse quickened, the scent of her own desire mingling with the mineral-rich water.
When she was thoroughly cleansed, he guided her from the pool, wrapping her in the silk robe Zalaya had provided. The fabric clung to her damp skin, outlining curves that his hands itched to explore.
“Come,” he said, leading her back through the beaded curtain to the main chamber. “You need rest.”
At the foot of the smaller sleeping platform stood an ornate chest, its surface inlaid with mother-of-pearl and precious gems.
“Zalaya has provided suitable attire,” he explained, gesturing toward it. “Clothing befitting your station.”
Sora ran her fingers over the chest’s surface. “And what station is that, exactly?”
His gaze met hers, unwavering. “Queen.”
Her sharp intake of breath was the only indication of her surprise. She opened the chest, revealing garments in rich fabrics—silks, velvets, and materials unique to Artania, all in jewel tones that would complement her emerging scales.
“I should leave you to your privacy,” he said, though every part of him screamed against it. “My energy wanes. Without the mask, maintaining this form becomes... challenging.”
“You’re returning to full dragon form?”
He nodded. “It’s my natural state. More comfortable, particularly for sleeping.”
“Will you...” She hesitated. “Will you still be able to speak with me?”
“Always,” he assured her, touched by the concern in her voice. “Through the faint dragon blood in your veins, our connection transcends physical form.”
He retreated to the enormous stone slab at the chamber’s center, covered in furs and silks gathered over centuries. No matter how vast his treasure hoard—and it was legendary even among dragonkind—nothing in his collection compared to the woman now standing at the edge of her sleeping platform, watching him with eyes that held the sky.
“Rest, Sora,” he said softly. “Tomorrow will soon be here.”
His form began to shift, scales flowing like liquid fire as his body expanded to its true size. Wings unfurled, stretching to their full impressive span before folding against his sides. The transformation complete, he settled onto his stone slab, curling his formidable body into a comfortable position, tail wrapping protectively around the perimeter of the smaller sleeping platform where she stood.
“Sleep well, my queen,”he projected into her mind, crimson eyes gleaming in the dimming light.
“I’m not your queen,” she whispered, frowning, but the protest lacked conviction.
“Not yet,”he responded once again, watching as she slipped beneath silken covers.“But some truths transcend denial.”
As her breathing deepened into sleep, Ignis maintained his vigil. His most precious treasure lay within the circle of his tail, finally where she belonged—in his mountain, under his protection.
After centuries of waiting, the prophecy was unfolding for his clan.
But prophecies carried danger as well as promise. The Celestorian royal family would not surrender their power without a fight. They would come for her, seeking to destroy what they could not control.
Let them come.A low growl rumbled in his chest. Fire awaited any who threatened what was his.
In her sleep, Sora stirred, responding unconsciously to his protective fury. The scales along her exposed shoulder caught the fading light, silver against her pale skin—the mark of her dual nature emerging. Dragon and human. Death and rebirth.
A flash of movement at the chamber’s entrance drew his attention. Ember stood in the shadows, her scarred face unreadable as she observed the sleeping woman.
“Report,” he commanded softly.
“Our scouts confirm the castle is in chaos,” she responded, her voice barely above a whisper. “The king has called his war council. The queen prepares and gathers her mages, hoping their magic is strong enough to cast old binding spells thought lost to time.”
“And the princess?”
