Page 84 of Beneath Scales and Shadows
“It’s done,” he whispered, voice roughened with emotion. His forked tongue gently lapped at the mark, cleansing it with meticulous care. Each stroke sent renewed shivers through her body, the area hypersensitive to his touch.
Through their newly deepened bond, she sensed his satisfaction—and beneath it, a vulnerability that surprised her. For all his power, this ancient being had given her something precious, something that could wound him as deeply as it strengthened him.
“Now,” he murmured against her skin, “you are truly mine. And I am yours.”
The reality of what they’d done settled over her—not with regret but with solemn understanding. Whatever came next, they were bound beyond separation. Whatever Celestoria planned, they would face it connected in ways the royal family couldn’t anticipate.
Exhaustion swept through her suddenly, the ritual’s demands on her body combining with the day’s emotional toll. Ignis sensed it immediately, gathering her against his chest with gentle strength.
“Sleep,” he commanded softly. “Tomorrow brings challenges enough.”
She moved instinctively, gathering blankets and creating a makeshift nest within the protective circle of his forearms. The compulsion would have seemed strange days ago—this need to burrow close to his warmth, to surround herself with his scent. Now it felt natural, necessary.
As she settled against the smooth ruby scales of his chest, she marveled at how right it felt—how quickly impossibility had become inevitability.
His wing draped over her like a living blanket, creating a sanctuary of shadow and warmth against the chill mountain air. The steady rhythm of his twin hearts beat against her cheek, lulling her toward sleep with hypnotic regularity.
“We leave at dawn?” she murmured, fighting to keep her eyes open.
“Yes.” His voice rumbled through his chest beneath her ear. “Rest while you can.”
She nodded, fingers tracing idle patterns across his scales. The mark at her shoulder throbbed with pleasant heat, a constant reminder of their connection. Through it, she sensed his vigilance—his determination to keep her safe despite the danger they would soon face.
His snout nuzzled gently against her hair, inhaling her scent as though committing it to memory. “My queen,” he confessed, the words rumbling deep in his chest. “Since the moment I sensed you, I have craved to be yours.”
The naked vulnerability in his admission melted something within her. She reached up, touching his scaled face with reverent tenderness, pressing her forehead to his in a gesture that felt ancient and sacred.
“When we return...” she whispered, the promise forming itself as she spoke, “let’s explore whatever this is between us.”
His forearms tightened around her, tail curling more securely at her feet. Through their newly formed bond, she felt his joy—fierce and mighty—followed by a rush of protective determination so potent it stole her breath.
As sleep claimed her, one final thought formed with perfect clarity: whatever came tomorrow, whatever traps Celestoria had laid within their castle, they would face it together—dragon and human, alpha and omega, king and queen.
Bound not by prophecy or fate, but by choice.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
SORA
Dawn’s first light hadn’t yet broken the horizon when Sora stood at the forest’s edge with Prince Markth beside her. Ignis’s dragoon form towered over them both, his ruby scales catching the moonlight in patterns that turned her blood to fire.
There was something about the way he stood—utterly still, yet coiled with barely restrained power—that made her stomach twist with heat. The sharp gleam of his horns, the way his wings stretched wide like a living fortress behind him, the moonlight skating across those ruby scales like flame on stone... it all made her forget how to breathe. He looked like a god carved from war and fire, and for a moment, Sora wasn’t sure if she wanted to run into battle—or press herself against his chest, seeking the comfort of his presence.
The smell of dew-covered pine and the earthy scent of fallen leaves mingled with his smoky stone essence, creating a final memory she’d carry with her into danger.
“It’s not too late to reconsider,” Ignis growled, his voice pitched low so only she could hear. His crimson gaze reflected the dying stars, filled with barely contained fear.
“You know I have to do this.” Sora reached for his scaled hand, drawing strength from its familiar warmth. “Coal is suffering because of my existence.”
Prince Markth cleared his throat and took a pointed step away to study the castle gates in the distance, giving them the illusion of privacy. His borrowed dragon-crafted armor gleamed dully in the pre-dawn gloom.
Ignis’s tail flicked with agitation, disturbing the undergrowth. “If anything happens to you—”
“It won’t.” She pressed her palm against the ruby scale embedded in her side, its presence a constant, comforting reminder of their bond. “I’ll feel you with me the entire time.”
His wings stirred, vast and silent, curling around her like living shadows as he drew her to his chest. Through their blood bond, she felt his conflict—the rage at being separated from her warring with the tactical necessity of their plan.
“Come back to me,” he whispered, forked tongue flicking against her ear as he leaned down. “Promise me you won’t do anything reckless.”
