Page 65 of Beneath Scales and Shadows
“Correct,” Zalaya confirmed, her feathers rustling as she arranged ritual implements on a small table. “Two become one—forever bound until the Moon Goddess claims both.”
“Will she live without it?” Ignis demanded, his voice barely controlled. “Is there any other way?”
Another exchanged glance between healers—one that didn’t escape his notice. Asher’s hands stilled over the wound.
“Unknown,” he said finally, each word measured. “The corruption spreads despite our efforts. But...” He hesitated, meeting Ignis’s burning gaze. “If she were bound to you, she would live as long as you draw breath.”
Ignis turned away, claws digging into his palms. The choice before him tore at the very core of who he was—king, protector, alpha. He had sworn never to take her choice from her, to let her come to him willingly or not at all. To make this decision while she lay unconscious, unable to consent…
Yet to do nothing was to condemn her to a second death. After all she had survived—crossing worlds, awakening in a body with dragon blood, embracing a destiny that wasn’t hers by birth—to lose her now to a coward’s poisoned blade…
“She chose to save me,” he said at last, his voice rough with emotion. “Not once, but twice. She—an omega, a Luna—placed herself between danger and her alpha. She stepped into the path of that arrow at the castle. She intercepted the princess’s dagger today.”
He turned back to them, feeling the weight of the choice settle in his chest like forged iron. His jaw clenched, breath steadying as the uncertainty bled away. There was no room left for doubt—only the fire of what had to be done.
“I will not let her sacrifice be in vain. A life for a life—she saved mine, I shall give her mine in return.”
Zalaya nodded, something like approval flickering in her all-knowing eyes. “Then you must prepare. The ritual requires your true form.”
“What must I surrender?”
“A scale from over your heart,” Zalaya replied, selecting a curved obsidian blade from her ritual chest. “A fragment of your heart’s muscle. Blood freely given. And finally, your flame—not the physical fire, but the soul-spark that ignites it.”
Ignis stepped away from the bed, wings unfurling as his form began to shift. The chamber seemed to shrink around him as he expanded into his true draconic glory, scales flowing like liquid fire, tail coiling to avoid destroying the furnishings and his collection of treasure. When the transformation completed, he lowered his massive head to the edge of the bed, the stone floor cool beneath his jaw. Crimson eyes locked on her pale, unmoving face, searching for any flicker of life—any hope that she was still alive.
By the Great Mother, she’s too still.
“Place her between my forelegs,”he commanded.“You said my presence helps her—let her rest under my care.”
Asher and Zalaya worked together to lift Sora’s limp form, carefully carrying her to the open space Ignis created. The silk sheet fell away as they positioned her directly against his chest scales, the contrast stark—her small, pale human form against his draconic ruby body.
“Begin,”Ignis growled.
Zalaya approached without fear, obsidian blade gleaming in her taloned hand. She muttered ancient words in a language even Ignis barely recognized—older than draconic, perhaps dating back to the first creatures shaped by the Moon Goddess herself.
The blade found the juncture where his chest scales overlapped, precisely over his left heart. With surprising strength, the harpy pried loose a ruby scale the size of her palm. Pain lanced through him—sharp and clean—so unlike the agony of watching Sora fade.
Black blood welled from the exposed flesh as Zalaya set the scale aside, the blade moving again with ritual precision. This time, the pain cut deeper as she carved into the muscle beneath, extracting a sliver of his heart no larger than a small gemstone.
Ignis remained motionless, allowing the violation of his body without protest. For her, any pain was bearable. Any sacrifice, acceptable.
He wasn’t only an alpha, but he was their king. The last pure-blood dragon of his royal bloodline.
If anyone could withstand the pain, it was him—especially for her.
Zalaya carried the bloody heart fragment to Sora, chanting as she placed it directly over the poisoned wound. With ritual movements, she pressed the fragment into the corrupted flesh, her magic binding dragon heart to human wound.
Next came the scale, positioned over the embedded heart fragment, creating a living shield. Zalaya’s chanting intensified, feathers bristling with arcane energy as she sealed the scale to Sora’s skin.
“Now,” Zalaya commanded, stepping back. “Breathe your flame upon her, but not the fire of destruction—the flame of creation that burns within your soul.”
Ignis lowered his head, jaws parting. What emerged was unlike his battle flame—instead of roaring destruction, this fire flowed like liquid light, pale blue at its core, shifting to violet at its edges. It enveloped Sora’s form without consuming, bathing her in ethereal radiance.
“Great Mother who watches from the sky,” Zalaya intoned, spreading her wings. “Moon Goddess who blessed our world with your tears—hear this king’s plea. Accept his sacrifice. Bond these souls as one.”
The flame intensified, coalescing around the embedded scale. Sora’s body arched suddenly, a silent scream parting her lips as the magic took hold. Silver light erupted from her skin, racing along the pathways where scales had begun to form, pushing back the dark tendrils of corruption.
Ignis felt the bond forming—a tether anchoring his existence to hers, his strength flowing into her weakened body, his life force merging with her fading one. The sensation was unlike anything he had experienced in his long life—intimate beyond physical joining, vulnerable beyond mere nakedness. His very essence laid bare, offered freely to sustain her.
