Page 58 of Beneath Scales and Shadows
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, lifting the breastplate. Light caught in the opalescent shimmer of midnight-blue scales trimmed with silver. The scales were impossibly pliant beneath her touch, both resilient and yielding. Not decorated—formed that way, as if the scales themselves had been coaxed into creating natural ornamentation.
Like it was designed to be the rider’s second skin.
“The armor of a dragon rider.”
Her heart stuttered. “I’m not—”
“You aremine.” His voice cut through her protest, low, growly and certain. Crimson eyes gleamed in the dim light as he stepped closer, his shadow stretching wide, swallowing the pale edges of morning. “And today, you fly with me into battle. That makes you a rider in all the ways that matter.”
“But I don’t know how to ride…”
“But youwill.”
The weight of his words settled over her like the armor she now slipped into. Each piece fit with impossible precision, as if measured for a body she was still discovering herself. The leather beneath was butter-soft against her skin, the scales light despite their obvious strength.
“Elaris gifted these to us many decades ago,” Ignis explained from the balcony, his dragoon form silhouetted against the pre-dawn sky, his voice carrying the weight of memory. “A gesture of solidarity when they still believed our kingdoms might unite against Celestoria.” He stepped closer, wings rustling with tension, until their chests nearly touched—his breath warm against hers, that ancient, smoky scent curling around her, filling her senses. “Zalaya and Nylrion recovered them from our deepest vaults, adjusting them to your form.”
Sora looked up in surprise. “From Elaris? The human kingdom?”
“Yes. Before Celestoria turned to their twisted alchemy, before they enhanced their weapons with omega essence.” His hand skimmed the armor with slow reverence, palm open, touch barely there. “These were crafted for a future where we could fly with humans together again... a future that never came.”
Sora stilled, breath catching—his touch barely there, so gentle, so deliberate. It sank into her like something she’d been aching for.
“How does it feel?”
Sora rolled her shoulders, testing the give. “Like it was made for me.”
“It’s only natural for my Luna to be dressed as the dragon queen she’s becoming,” Ignis said, crimson eyes holding hers with unwavering certainty. “Besides, you’ll need protection where we’re going.”
His hand paused, head cocking as his lips settled into something wicked and clever. “And you’re sure about giving this to me?”
“Who else would be worthy to ride upon my back?”
Something sharp and unexpected twisted in Sora’s chest—jealousy, raw and irrational. The image of someone else in her place struck deeper than it should have.
She shoved the thought aside.
“That’s not my call to make,” she said, voice steady despite the burn beneath it.
The dragon king’s scaled lips curved into a faint smile. “You have nothing to worry about, little Luna. Only you will be allowed to ride me.”
Before she could form a response, Ignis stepped closer. One clawed hand reached down, retrieving the heavy cloak she’d forgotten she’d dropped. He swept it gently around her shoulders, settling the weight across her back with reverent care.
When she looked up, his gaze pierced through her—furious devotion, wild and unyielding, the kind of look that made breathing difficult.
“My eyes are only on you,” he said, voice low and rough with promise.
Heat rushed through her like a lit fuse, curling beneath her skin and settling low in her belly. His scent wrapped around her—smoke, heat, and something deeper, somethinghis—and her omega instincts flared to life, craving warmth, closeness,him.
She forced her shoulders to square beneath the cloak.
Not now.
That rising pull, the ache she didn’t ask for, the instincts humming beneath her skin—it could wait. She wouldn’t let biology dictate her choices. Not when her people needed her. Not when they needed to save Coal.
Focus.
They had lives to save. Her new family. Her friend. Coal.
