Page 57 of Beneath Scales and Shadows
“He lives,” she finally whispered—raising one hand to press against her chest. “I can still feel him here”—she touched her temple with the other—“and here.”
The confession hung in the air between them, intimate and raw. Sora suddenly understood—Ember and Coal were connected by something deeper…
Ember had thrown the wordmateat her during their spa—but Sora hadn’t believed it. She didn’t think deltas could evenhavethat kind of connection.
Apparently, she’d been wrong.
“He blocks the pain from me,” Ember continued, voice cracking beneath the weight of restraint. “But sometimes... it’s too much. I feel him screaming.” Her eyes opened, heavy with something unspoken. No tears fell, just a quiet weight behind her gaze that made Sora wonder—do dragons even cry?“He begs me not to sacrifice myself in rescue. To remain by your side, my king. To keep the Luna safe.”
“Wewillsave him,” Ignis swore, his voice resonating with the weight of royal decree. “I will not leave him to suffer and die. When we meet the Celestorians tomorrow, we will bring our brother home.”
Ember’s gaze shifted to Sora, assessment and fragile hope intermingling. “I pray to the Moon Goddess that you’re right.” She straightened, mask sliding back into place with visible effort. “Be ready. Everything changes tomorrow.”
With a final nod of acknowledgment, she turned away, striding toward the entrance to the central cavern. In one fluid motion, she leapt into the open air, wings unfurling as she transformed, bronze scales catching light as she soared upward out of sight.
Sora turned within Ignis’s embrace, pressing her forehead against the warm scales of his chest. The twin rhythm of his hearts beat against her skin—steady, ancient, unwavering. She rubbed her head against him, drawing comfort from his midnight-fire scent.
“I don’t know how I can fight like that,” she whispered, the confession drawn from some fragile place inside her. “It wasn’t me, but it was—as though something else moved through my body.”
His taloned fingers traced the line of her spine with impossible gentleness, each point of contact sending cascades of warmth through her aching muscles.
“Not something else,” he corrected softly. “Something that has always been part of you—instincts passed down through your dragon blood from the Moon Goddess herself.”
“I’m scared,” she admitted, the words barely audible even to herself. Sora trembled, not from pain but from the enormity of everything crashing down upon her. “Scared I’ll never be enough. That more people will die because of me.” She closed her eyes, Coal’s unseen suffering and Ember’s quiet agony wounds upon her conscience. “Innocents like my family, my friend Lyra... and Coal. All suffering to draw me out of hiding.”
Ignis’s wings folded around her, creating a sanctuary of warmth and darkness—something she’d grown to love.
“I just want to hide in your great library,” she admitted, wishing she didn’t have to go on the mission in the morning. “Read everything I can touch. Have some semblance of normalcy like I had on Earth—research, discovery, understanding—everything that has to do with Artania.”
His chest rumbled with a sound that vibrated through her own body—not quite a purr, not quite a growl, but something protective and fiercely tender.
“When this is over,” he promised, squeezing her tighter. “You can bury yourself in your studies. The Sacred Library will be yours to explore for as long as you desire.”
“That sounds lovely,” she whispered, allowing herself to imagine it—days spent among ancient texts, nights spent in his arms, all without the shadow of war hanging over them.
Ignis’s clawed hand gently cupped her chin, tilting her face upward. His crimson gaze studied her split lip as the pad of his thumb brushed away a smear of dried blood with impossible tenderness.
“You’re healing already,” he observed, satisfaction evident in his tone. “Are you truly all right?”
“I will be.” Sora managed a weary smile. “Don’t punish Ember. She was only doing her duty, trying to protect you and the clan.”
Ignis huffed, a wisp of smoke curling from his nostrils. “I won’t punish her. But that doesn’t mean I can’t take care of you.”
In one fluid motion, he swept her into his arms, cradling her against his chest as though she weighed nothing. The sudden change in perspective made her head spin—or perhaps it was the lingering effects of her sparring, combined with the heady proximity of his scent surrounding her completely.
“Let’s get you fed before we rest for the night,” he soothed, carrying her toward the corridor. “Tomorrow we face Celestoria, and you’ll need your strength.”
As they moved through the glowstone lit passages, Sora allowed herself to sink fully into his embrace.
Tomorrow would bring conflict, negotiation, the possibility of both rescue and disaster. But tonight—for these few precious moments—she would accept the sanctuary he offered as she borrowed his strength to rebuild her own.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
SORA
The armor lay folded atop the ornate chest, waiting for her like a silent declaration. Sora ran her fingers over the intricate patterns etched into scales that had no business being so supple. Dragon scales and dark elf metal fused together with leather craftsmanship that put Earth’s finest medieval artifacts to shame.
To be able to see it in person—in one piece—rather than in parts laid out like a gigantic puzzle on a research table… was breathtaking. No matter how much polishing and restoration the conservators had done, it didn’t compare to what had been gifted to her.
