Page 81 of Beneath Scales and Shadows
“We’re on our own then,” she said as they reached their shared chambers. “We’ll have to come up with a plan ourselves and then tell everyone.”
Ignis pushed open the door, his tail flicking with barely contained anger. “Our forces remain strong despite our losses. We can mount a rescue without allies, especially if we take the prince’s offer.”
“At what cost?” Sora moved to the balcony, watching the clan’s activity in the central cavern below. Dragons in various forms—full draconic, dragoon, and human—going about their duties, preparing for conflict none of them had chosen. “How many more will be injured? Killed?”
“What would you have me do?” Ignis’s voice softened as he joined her, standing close enough that his heat enveloped her. “Abandon Coal to torture and death?”
“Of course not.” She shook her head, turning to face him as her hand found his—scaled and warm—without hesitation. Their fingers intertwined naturally now, as if they’d been doing this for years. “But we need to be smarter than they expect, like letting me bait them if you don’t want to take the prince’s offer.”
His crimson eyes darkened. “No.”
“I wasn’t asking permission. I refuse to be left behind.” She held his gaze, unwilling to be intimidated by his alpha posturing. “Coal is suffering because of me. Because I exist—because I represent everything Celestoria fears.”
Through their bond, she felt his protective instincts surge, battling with his tactical mind. The resulting conflict sent waves of frustration rippling between them.
“You nearly died at the northern pass,” he growled, his free hand rising to trace the curve of her cheek with unexpected tenderness. “I won’t risk you again.”
“That choice isn’t yours to make.” She leaned into his touch despite her defiance. “This bond between us goes both ways, Ignis. I feel what you feel—including your guilt about Coal. Your fear for your clan.”
A scout approached the balcony entrance, hesitating when he saw them standing so close. The young beta dragon cleared his throat awkwardly.
“My king, my queen—”
“I’m not—” Sora began automatically, then stopped herself. The title still felt uncomfortable, but now wasn’t the time to correct him.
“Speak,” Ignis commanded, not moving away from her.
“Ember requests your presence in the east guest chambers. The prince has information he will share only with you both.”
Ignis’s wing twitched with annoyance. “Tell her we’ll arrive shortly.”
When the scout departed, Sora stepped away from the balcony rail, moving to the ornate chest where her clothes were stored. She selected a simple tunic and leggings appropriate for meeting royalty, even captive royalty.
“You think the prince is playing us,” she observed, sensing Ignis’s skepticism through their bond.
“Humans lie when cornered,” he replied, watching as she changed without any hint of embarrassment. The blood bond had eliminated such trivial concerns between them. “And Celestorian royals lie as naturally as they breathe.”
“Perhaps.” She fastened the silver clasps of her tunic, designed to accommodate the scales spreading across her collarbones and shoulders. “But desperation makes for strange allies. And Prince Markth seems to genuinely wants change.”
“Fear doesn’t equate to trustworthiness.”
“No, but it does make him predictable.” She pulled her hair back, securing it with a silver clasp that matched her increasingly prominent scales. “We can use that.”
The eastern guest chambers felt warmer than the rest of the mountain stronghold, heated by a different set of geothermal vents. As they approached, Sora caught snippets of conversation that halted abruptly at their arrival.
Ember stood outside the prince’s door, her posture rigid despite the exhaustion evident in her face. The bandage on her shoulder had been recently changed—at least she’d taken that advice. Her amber eyes brightened when she saw them, though the haunted shadow behind them remained.
“My king, Luna.” She bowed formally. “The prince claims to have information about Coal’s location and condition.”
Sora stepped forward. “Have you verified any of it?”
“Some details align with what our scouts report...” Ember’s scarred lip curled slightly. “But I know better to blindly hope he wants change.”
“Let’s hear him out,” Ignis decided, pushing the door open without knocking. “Why else would he summon us so soon?”
Prince Markth paced the chamber, his fine clothes rumpled from captivity. He spun toward them as they entered, relief flashing across his features despite his obvious tension.
“You came.” He straightened his posture, attempting to regain some royal dignity. “I wasn’t sure you would after this morning.”
