Page 41 of Beneath Scales and Shadows
Her hand rose hesitantly, hovering near his face before settling on his scaled cheek. The contact sent electricity coursing through him, and he leaned into her touch despite himself.
“What would happen,” she asked quietly, “if I chose you? If we... completed this bond?”
The question ignited dangerous hope within his chest. “Everything would change. Our lifeforces would intertwine. I could shift fully into human form without the need for enchanted masks. You would gain access to certain draconic abilities—like enhanced healing. Our minds would connect in ways words cannot adequately describe.”
“And politically?” Her mind never stopped analyzing, even now. She was always thinking—something he loved about her.
“You would become my queen in truth, not just title. Your word carrying equal weight to mine among all dragonkind.” His gaze held hers steadily. “And the prophecy would begin to fulfill itself—balance returning to our realms, magic strengthening across bloodlines.”
Sora’s thumb traced the edge of a ruby scale along his jawline, the gentle touch nearly undoing his control. “And if I’m not ready?”
“Then we wait,” he answered simply, though his instincts raged against such patience. “Your choice must be freely given, or it means nothing.”
She leaned closer, their breath mingling in the cool night air. Her scent enveloped him—embers and moonflower intensifying with each passing moment, calling to him.
“I think I might—”
The balcony doors burst open behind them.
Ember stood framed in the entryway, her scarred face tight with urgency. Blood spattered across her chest, evidence of recent battle.
“My King,” she announced, bowing quickly. “I apologize for the interruption, but a scout has returned critically wounded. His news cannot wait.”
Ignis turned sharply, wings unfurling. “Bring him.”
Sora stood as well, silver scales catching the moonlight, dancing on his ruby, as she moved to Ignis’s side. The intimacy of their previous moment evaporated, replaced by the weight of imminent threat.
Ember disappeared, returning moments later supporting a young beta in human form. His bronze scales along his sides were dulled with exhaustion and blood, one arm dangling uselessly beside him. Deep gashes crisscrossed his torso—wounds that should have begun healing but remained raw and open.
The moonlight cast silver shadows across the scout’s form as he delivered his report, each word seeming to drain what little strength remained in his battered body.
“The royal forces knew exactly where to find us,” he gasped, crimson bubbling at the corner of his mouth. “The ambush was too precise, too coordinated.”
Ignis’s crimson gaze swept from the scout to Ember. “A betrayal, then.”
“Their weapons,” the scout continued, his voice failing. “Coated with something that prevents our healing. Omega essence, but corrupted somehow.”
Her chest was tight, but her hands didn’t waver as she helped ease the wounded dragon onto a stone bench. “How many were lost?”
“Six of our patrol,” the scout whispered. “I escaped only because Firedancer sacrificed himself to cover my retreat.” His claws scraped weakly against the stone. “They’re harvesting any omega they find—not just for weapons. Something worse.”
Ember’s expression darkened. “Princess Jewels leads the campaign personally. She claims to seek her father’s kidnapped servant.”
“A pretext,” Ignis growled, smoke curling from his nostrils.
“There’s more,” the scout added, coughing violently. Blood spattered the pale stone at his feet. “They’ve captured one of our own. Coal was taken alive.”
Ignis went utterly still, the temperature around him dropping precipitously despite the fire raging beneath his scales. “When?”
“During our retreat. His stealth nearly succeeded, but something gave him away. As if they knew precisely where to look.” The scout’s eyes fluttered. “He fought like the ancients themselves, but their numbers...”
Asher appeared in the doorway, summoned by some unseen signal. The healer moved immediately to the wounded scout, gentle hands already glowing with healing energy.
“Save your strength,” he murmured, guiding the scout to lie back. “You’ve done your duty.”
While Asher worked, Ember approached Ignis, her voice lowered. “This changes everything. If they torture Coal—”
“They won’t gain access to our secrets,” Ignis finished, his voice deadly quiet. “Our defenses, our weaknesses. Every pathway and hidden entrance he’s memorized over decades—they’resafe. He would never betray us. He would rather die than spill any information.”
