Page 25 of Beneath Scales and Shadows
“Perhaps the Moon Goddess didn’t choose you to fight,” Zalaya murmured, tilting her head, eyes narrowing. “Perhaps she chose you tosee. To observe what others cannot. To remember.”
Then, with one sharp talon, she tapped the open tome.
“Keep going, girl. The answers you’re looking for don’t lie in your fear. They liehere.”
Sora turned the page to find an illustration that stopped her heart—a human woman with silver scales shimmering across her skin, standing beside a hulking black dragon whose crimson eyes bore unmistakable intelligence. The woman’s face could have been her twin.
“Who is this?” she whispered, fingers hovering above the page as if touching it might make the image dissolve.
Zalaya leaned closer, her wing brushing Sora’s shoulder as feathers rustled with her soft melodic wind-chime chuckle. “Queen Vaelora, the last dragon-blooded omega queen. She was the one who was murdered by King Aldric during peace negotiations three centuries ago.”
“She looks like me.” The words felt inadequate for the uncanny reflection staring back from parchment yellowed by centuries. “Only she’s a dragon, and I’m not.”
In the illustration, Queen Vaelora stood with quiet dignity, silver scales tracing patterns along her throat and temples that mirrored the very formations now emerging on Sora’s own skin. Her eyes—rendered in remarkable detail by some forgotten artist—held the same sapphire hue, the same questioning intelligence. Even the slight tilt of her head matched Sora’s habitual posture when contemplating a historical puzzle.
“The resemblance is uncanny,” Zalaya agreed, studying the illustration with newfound intensity. “Perhaps your connection runs deeper than even the prophecy suggests.”
CHAPTERNINE
IGNIS
The jeweled-veined council chamber felt suffocating despite its cavernous size.
Ignis half-listened as Blaze finished reporting on Celestoria’s western military movements, his attention wandering toward the mountain’s depths where Sora had disappeared with Zalaya hours ago.
Her scent was gone, and in its place lingered an aching hollow beneath his scales—one strategy couldn’t touch and claws couldn’t reach, even in his current half-form.
Every heartbeat without her nearby felt like punishment. After a century of iron control, his ferality strained against his restraint, urging him to seek what washis.
He knew it was foolish—for they weren’t bonded—to be unable to have her out of his sight, especially when there were many in the clan searching for a mate of their own when there’s a blossoming omega with the freedom to roam their caverns and tunnels.
He trusted his avian advisor—regardless of her being a harpy and not a dragon—to be her guide while she wasn’t by his side. The delta healer may have had a dark history, and her own quirks when regarding worshipping the Moon Goddess and the prophecies, but she was loyal.
She wouldn’t let anything happen to the first Luna graced upon Artania.
“My king?” Ember’s voice sliced through his thoughts, eyebrow lifted, her scarred face creased with rare concern. “The southern defenses?”
Ignis straightened, wings shifting against his back. “Double the sentries at Blackclaw Pass. The humans will test our weaknesses before committing to full assault. We won’t reveal ourselves until they reach the center. There, we will show them how it feels to be burned alive.”
“And if they have their black magic and corrupted weapons?” Coal tilted his head toward Ember, a soft reminder of the damage that was done to his guard—his clan—from Celestoria’s wicked and unnatural ways.
“What does this prophecy of yours say about your Luna?” Ember sneered. “And how she’s supposed to help us, bringing balance to all of Artania.” She flicked her hand, her fingers slicing through the air, toward the large map sprawled across the war table. “Perhaps we should have her here and let her grace us with her divine wisdom.”
“Enough!” Ignis let out a sharp growl, talons scraping lightly against stone. “I won’t have such words spoken within my presence.” He met each of his council members’ eyes; they admittedly averted their gazes, exposing their necks and submitting to him. “We’ll reconvene after the midday meal. My queen must be hungry after her studies.”
Cinderfell sighed and nodded as he left, while Asher’s face softened as he followed the eldest advisor. Yet both Coal and Ember remained—the others filed out—his oldest friends, the only ones he could truly speak freely with. They exchanged a glance, Coal’s lips pressed into a thin line while Ember’s brows drew together.
Neither had openly challenged his declaration, though Sora’s acceptance was no longer unspoken. He knew there would be some discourse amongst his clan, but he thought his council would at least trust that he wouldn’t jeopardize them.
That they would trust his instincts.
“Another successful council meeting up until the end,” Coal remarked, leaning back in his chair. His dark eyes fixed on Ignis with that calculating look he’d known since childhood. “Though I wonder about your latest... decision.”
Ignis raised an eyebrow. “Which decision would that be?”
“Bringing a human into our midst without being tested. You didn’t let me integrate her.” Coal’s voice dropped lower, the way it always did when he was concerned. “Is it wise to have her here, among our most guarded secrets?”
Ember nodded, crossing her arms. “I hate to agree with him, but he has a point. After everything the humans have done to our kind...”
