Page 90 of Beneath Scales and Shadows
She raised the whip, arm drawing back for the first strike.
Heat surged through Sora’s body, sudden and overwhelming. Not fear or pain, but something else entirely—a burning need that radiated outward from her core, scorching through her veins. The mark at her neck pulsed with molten intensity, and the ruby scale at her side flared with internal light.
Moon rays slanted through the stained glass, bathing her in silver radiance. The connection clicked into place—moonlight, heat, the burning in her blood.
She was entering her first heat.
The royal family recoiled as her scent shifted, sweetening with unmistakable omega pheromones laced with something wilder, more dangerous—dragon essence, raw and untamed.
“What is happening?” King Ralph demanded, rising from his throne. “Guards!”
Sora tilted her head back, sending out a cry only he would feel—pure, desperate need flooding the tether between them like a pulse of wildfire. The suppression cuffs cracked as her silver scales rippled with internal light, spreading across her skin in overlapping patterns.
Princess Jewels stumbled backward, whip forgotten as she stared in horror. “She’s transforming,” she whispered. “Right before us.”
A primal bugle shattered the morning air—Ignis answering her call with a battle cry that rattled the castle’s foundations. The sky erupted with echoes as dozens of dragons responded to their king’s summons.
“You should run,” she advised the royal family, her voice altered—deeper, resonant with power she’d never wielded before. “He’s coming for me, and he’s bringing the rage of generations with him.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
IGNIS
Ignis hurtled through the sky, his wings slicing through clouds with brutal precision. Blood thundered in his ears—not his own, buthers. Through their bond, he felt Sora’s pain like a physical wound, her silent scream echoing across their connection with terrifying clarity.
“Hold on,”he commanded through their bond, pouring every ounce of strength into the thought. “I’m coming.”
The castle loomed below, white marble towers glowing in the morning light like bleached bones. Guards scattered across the battlements, their weapons little more than twigs against the inferno building in his chest. Time slowed as he pinpointed the throne room—her essence calling him like a beacon, directing him.
Without hesitation, he tucked his wings and dived.
The stained-glass ceiling of the throne room shattered beneath his weight, raining jewel-colored shards that glittered like ice in the sunlight. He crashed onto the marble floor with enough force to crack stone, his claws gouging furrows in ancient tiles as he unfurled to his full height.
What he saw turned his blood to fire.
Sora kneeled before the dais, silver scales gleaming along her throat and arms, defiance etched into every line of her body despite the bindings at her wrists. The sight of those restraints—carved with suppression wards—sent fury cascading through him in molten waves.
His gaze swept the room, cataloging enemies with predatory precision. Four thrones upon the dais. Four humans who dared to call themselves royal while perpetuating atrocities that would make demons weep.
King Ralph stood, his face a mask of cold arrogance. “What madness is this? Dragons do not enter the royal presence unbidden!”
“This one does,”Ignis growled, resonating through the cavernous space like thunder.
Queen Marcille’s fingers clutched her throne’s armrests, knuckles whitening beneath jeweled rings. “Guards! Contain this beast!”
Ignis dismissed the scrambling soldiers with contemptuous ease, a sweep of his tail sending armored bodies crashing into marble columns. His focus remained fixed on the royal family—the true threat.
“The girl belongs to us,” King Ralph declared, his voice carrying the weight of generations of entitlement. “As do all omegas. Their power exists to serve the crown.”
Ignis stalked forward, each step deliberate, acutely aware of Sora’s gaze following his movements. The bond between them thrummed with shared rage.
Queen Marcille rose, her elegant features contorted with disdain. “Your power is ours by right. You can’t deny us what we’re owed!”
Something ancient and terrible awoke in Ignis’s blood, a rage that had slumbered for a century now roaring to life. He had maintained restraint for decades—watching his kind diminish, his clan suffering, his people hunted like animals. He had counseled patience, strategy, diplomacy.
No more.
King Ralph gestured toward Sora, his voice cold with command. “Seize her.”
