Page 52 of Beneath Scales and Shadows
His purr deepened.“Why dream when reality with you is far sweeter?”
Pink suffused her cheeks. “What we did last night... what you did for me...” She bit her lip, gaze dropping to where her fingers traced patterns across his scales. “Was that normal?”
“Your heat approaches swiftly,”he explained, wishing once again he’d not have to be the one to explain her new biological omega attributes to her.“Your body needed release. It was my duty—and an honor—to provide it.”
“And that’s... customary? Between potential mates?”
The weight behind the question lingered, revealing how much she was still trying to understand Artania’s customs—the complex intersection of roles, biology, and social norms that governed this world—a world that wasn’t hers.
He must make sure she visits the great library after they rescue Coal and teach the Celestoria royals a lesson, so they won’t dare continue their barbaric ways. For he was a king—a leader—not a healer or teacher, someone who should be explaining such things. Perhaps he should request for Zalaya to discuss the more intimate subjects with her, in preparation for what was to come.
“Among dragons, such care is expected,”he confirmed with a huff.“An alpha who cannot tend their omega’s needs before full claiming would be unworthy of the bond.”
Her fingertip traced the edge of a particularly large scale near his wrist, sending unexpected ripples of pleasure through his form. “How does it work among dragons? Mating, I mean.”
His tail shifted, wrapping more securely around her sleeping platform. The innocent curiosity in her tone belied the intimate nature of her question.
“Dragon omegas experience heat once yearly,”he began, choosing his words carefully.“Unlike other species with seasonal cycles, ours can occur at any time.”
“And then what happens?”
“When an unmated omega enters heat, there is a mating flight. The same goes for other female dragons whenever they have the urge.”The ancient tradition flashed through his mind—wings unfurled against lavender skies, clouds parting before powerful bodies locked in ritual pursuit. Once, it happened multiple times, daily—but now, it rarely happened due to their low populace.“Those wishing to claim them must prove their worthiness through aerial conquest.”
Her eyes widened, her hand stilling, fascination displacing any lingering shyness. “Wait, you mate in the sky? While flying?”
A rumble of amusement escaped him.“It begins in the sky,”he clarified.“The chase, the claiming—these occur in the open air. But the completion of the bond typically takes place in private breeding chambers surrounding the hatching grounds.”
“Why there specifically?”
“The chambers encircle the sacred moonwell. After heat subsides, the omega bathes in its waters—as does any other recently mated female—to cleanse body and spirit. Their partners will tend to them through their ritual, making sure they’re well cared for.”
She fell into a thoughtful silence, absorbing his words with the quiet focus he’d come to admire. Her fingers resumed their gentle path along his scales, each delicate touch drawing a deep, contented purr from his chest, meant for her alone.
She hesitated, her eyes flicking up to his before dropping again. When she spoke, her voice came quieter, the words slower—almost hesitant. “And what about... well, what happens when a dragon shares a bond with a rider?”
Her question stirred memories long buried—of a time before the Great Sundering, when such pairings were celebrated rather than persecuted. When humans and dragons joined not just in partnership but in mutual devotion—for the betterment of both species.
“It varies with each pairing,”he answered honestly.“Very rarely are they able to maintain separation between their riding bond and their personal lives, treating it as a sacred partnership but nothing more. Others...”He paused, his gaze drifting to the balcony ledge where the sunrise shimmered across mountain snow.“Others allow it to evolve—naturally, powerfully—into something deeper. The bond between a dragon and their rider isn’t just physical or tactical. It’s emotional, spiritual. It threads through the soul like a second heartbeat.
“Emotions, instincts, even dreams begin to align. It’s more than trust. It’s fusion. A connection that makes each individual stronger, more grounded—more whole. Some say it’s the purest form of love and loyalty our kind can experience.”
He glanced back at her, a sense of longing taking root deep within his chest.“And when that bond is shared—when two or more bonded pairs choose to unite—it creates something even rarer: a pod. A close-knit unit, deeper than blood. Those who can love beyond their partner with another brings a familial strength.”
He drew in a breath, then exhaled slowly through his nose, his head tilting while adjusting his wings.“But it’s not without risk. That kind of closeness strips away every layer. Just like there’s no hiding in a bond, there’s also not any in a pod—only honesty, vulnerability, and the unspoken promise. Its strength is also its weakness. For death is felt soul deep.”
“Then… why?” Sora tilted her head, chin pressing lightly onto his forearm as she looked up at him. “Why would anyone choose that? To tie themselves to someone—maybemultiplesomeones—knowing they could lose it all?”
“Because we yearn for someone beyond ourselves,”he explained, as he tried to define his own emptiness in his own being that he had felt all his lifetime.“Someone to know us—trulyknow us—and still stay. A bond like that means never being alone. Not in thought. Not in pain. Not even in death.”
He studied her, wondering if such a thing existed where she came from.“That kind of connection wasn’t discovered until dragons and humans became more than allies. More than rider and beast. Our healers say it’s a gift from the Moon Goddess herself. A bridge. A way to unite her children… to see past blood and bone, to the soul.”
Sora’s breath hitched softly, tickling his scales. “That sounds…” She hesitated, color rising in her cheeks. “It sounds romantic. Devoted. Kinda like soulmates.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“No, I just—” Her gaze darted away, her hands dropping, fingers curling slightly against the fabric of her blanket. “I mean, itis… but—” She glanced up again, lashes brushing her cheeks. “But physically… how would that evenwork?”
Ignis blinked, wishing once again he’d given her more time in the great library—or at the very least, bring back some books about Artania’s biology and social norms.
