Page 27 of Beneath Scales and Shadows
“Where might my queen be hiding?”
He extended his awareness through the mountain passageways, a skill honed over centuries. The mental call found Zalaya instantly, her harpy consciousness distinct among the draconic minds within the base.
“Zalaya?”
Her response came immediately, a cool whisper against his consciousness.“Yes, my lord?”
“Where is she?”He didn’t need to specify who.
The harpy’s response carried unmistakable amusement.“Still in the Sacred Library, deep within its archives. Your Luna absorbs knowledge with the hunger of one starved for centuries. She belongs among our ancient texts as naturally as a hatchling to flame.”
Of course she was. Ignis pushed away from the wall, his steps already carrying him toward them.
“Is she alone?”He had to know.
“No, I am nearby, within eyesight, though she declined my offer of assistance. She seems... determined to find something.”
Ignis felt his lips curve into a smile despite himself. Determined was certainly one word for Sora. Stubborn might be another.
“Thank you, Zalaya.”
As he walked the winding corridors toward the library, Ignis tried to gather his scattered thoughts. This pull toward Sora was more than attraction, more than curiosity. It was as if some ancient part of his draconic nature had recognized something in her that his conscious mind was still struggling to understand.
Belongs.
The word resonated through Ignis’s core, affirming what he’d known since first catching her scent at the Selection Ball.
He stormed through the main corridors, offering sharp nods to each clan member he passed, his pace quickening as he descended toward the mountain’s heart.
The Sacred Library’s entrance loomed ahead. Two dragons—a golden and a silver joined together in the middle—made its enormous archway carved with spiraling draconic script alongside them.
Ignis paused at the threshold, the sight before him stealing his breath.
Sora sat cross-legged on a cushion before the central pool, surrounded by open books and unfurled scrolls. The room’s ethereal light caught in her golden hair, illuminating the faint silver scales now permanently visible along her collarbone and arms. Her fingers traced ancient text with reverent precision, lips moving silently as she absorbed knowledge that should have been incomprehensible to someone raised in another world.
The smile that curved her mouth—genuine, unguarded joy—transformed her entirely from the wary woman who had arrived in his mountain. She looked... at peace. At home. The realization settled in his chest with satisfying weight.
Beside her, Zalaya organized artifacts with careful grace, occasionally pointing to passages that prompted animated discussion. The harpy’s wings rustled as she sensed his presence, jade eyes lifting to meet his gaze.
“My king,” she greeted, bowing her head with practiced deference that couldn’t quite hide her knowing smile. “All is well?”
Sora gasped, scrambling to her feet amid the scattered texts. “Ignis! I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—” Her gaze darted to the large, jeweled timekeeper that completely covered the wall, its hands were two dragons in a mating dance, their heads and tails pointing to the correct time. “Have you been waiting long? I didn’t realize how late it was.”
The frantic concern in her voice, so unlike the defiance she had shown his council, stirred something protective within him. “I’ve only just arrived,” he assured her, moving into the library’s glow. “Your enjoyment of our histories pleases me.”
Relief softened her features, her cheeks darkening as she tucked her long golden hair behind her ear while she glanced ruefully at the chaos around her. “I should have been more mindful of the time.”
“Getting lost in the archives isn’t a failure—it’s a sign you’re asking the right questions,” he countered, approaching to examine the texts she had selected. Ancient mating rituals, elemental magic theory, territorial treaties from the First Age—her selections spoke not just to academic interest, but to a deeper, more personal quest for understanding. “The pursuit of knowledge here is meant to be lived, not managed by a clock. You’re welcome in these halls whenever you desire.”
His gaze caught on an open tome near the edge of the table—the portrait of Queen Vaelora, the slain omega whose death had ignited generations of war. The striking resemblance between the ancient queen and Sora didn’t escape him, but he masked it with practiced ease.
“You’ve found fascinating subjects,” he observed instead, crouching beside her cushion to better view the collection.
Excitement brightened her eyes. “The metalworking techniques alone would revolutionize Earth’s understanding of medieval craftsmanship. And the communal hatching rituals! The way multiple dragons contribute magic to strengthen eggs in the communal hatching grounds and as a clan, making sure the fledglings reach adulthood—it’s a stunning example of evolutionary adaptation.”
“Fertilized eggs are laid in the central moon pool, surrounded by the hatching grounds,” Zalaya explained, pointing at the rough map of the caverns pinned on the nearby wall. “After every heat, the joyous brood will deposit them in a ritual, entrusting them to the clan to raise them into maturity.”
“But why?” Sora’s voice cracked, as she searched them for answers. “Do broods… not have attachment?”
