Page 14 of Beneath Scales and Shadows (Lost Lunas of Artania #1)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

IGNIS

Ignis woke with unusual clarity, his mind sharp despite the scant hours of rest. Sora’s essence surrounded him, her lingering scent wrapping around his senses, like the fine mist in the clouds—lightly clinging on his scales.

He inhaled deeply, drawing her fragrance deeper into his lungs, letting it permeate his very being. The sweet notes of moonflower and cinnamon had deepened overnight, gaining complexity and richness that signaled her transformation was indeed nearly complete and her first heat would soon be upon them.

The weight of her small form against his huge forepaw felt inexplicably right. She slept peacefully, her golden hair spilling across his ruby scales, her breathing deep and even. Silver scales now permanently adorned her shoulders and traced delicate patterns along her collarbones, new ones forming above the dip of her breasts, shimmering faintly under the glowstones within their chamber.

A rumbling purr vibrated through his chest, the sound so instinctive he couldn’t have suppressed it had he tried—not that he wanted to. It had been decades since such contentment had flowed through him.

A century of waiting. Of searching. Of hoping despite mounting evidence that hope was foolish.

And now she was here, curled trustingly against him.

It had always amazed him how she’d never shown him any fear—regardless of what form he took—when even other monsters were intimidated by his sheer size and strength. It was the main reason his people typically roamed the caverns in their dragoon forms. Unlike alphas—who needed a great deal of energy to transform—the rest of his people didn’t share that burden so they rarely needed to return to their main dragon form.

He was slowly losing his ability to hold his dragoon form for long… until she came into his life.

And somehow, her presence had also eased the constant strain of leadership. The weight of his clan’s survival, the looming conflict with Celestoria, the fragile alliances forming with neighboring kingdoms—all remained urgent concerns, yet somehow more manageable with her beside him.

The irony wasn’t lost on him. War with humans threatened his clan’s very existence, yet this human—this twice-born omega from beyond their world—brought him a peace he’d forgotten could exist.

Ignis knew ancients of his kind wouldn’t have been as welcoming—or as accepting—as he was of her existence. The damage her species had done to his people, and to the neighboring kingdoms, was immense, but he hoped not permanent.

It made him want to burn their enemies to ash.

To unleash dragon fire across Celestoria’s borders, reducing opposition to cinders so he could explore this newfound connection without the constant shadow of conflict.

So his people—and the surrounding kingdoms—could finally live in peace.

The protective urge surged through him, primal and consuming—not just for his clan but for her. For the future they might forge together if given the chance.

Sora stirred against him, eyelids fluttering open. Confusion clouded her features momentarily before recognition dawned. She smiled up at him, a shy, tender expression that sparked heat beneath his scales.

“It wasn’t a dream, then,” she murmured, voice husky with sleep as she snuggled closer against his forepaw and let out a long-drawn-out sigh.

His purr deepened. “Why dream when reality with you is far sweeter?”

Pink suffused her cheeks. “What we did last night... what you did for me...” She bit her lip, gaze dropping to where her fingers traced patterns across his scales. “Was that normal?”

“Your heat approaches swiftly,” he explained, wishing once again he’d not have to be the one to explain her new biological omega attributes to her. “Your body needed release. It was my duty—and an honor—to provide it.”

“And that’s... customary? Between potential mates?”

The weight behind the question lingered, revealing how much she was still trying to understand Artania’s customs—the complex intersection of roles, biology, and social norms that governed this world—a world that wasn’t hers.

He must make sure she visits the great library after they rescue Coal and teach the Celestoria royals a lesson, so they won’t dare continue their barbaric ways. For he was a king—a leader—not a healer or teacher, someone who should be explaining such things. Perhaps he should request for Zalaya to discuss the more intimate subjects with her, in preparation for what was to come.

“Among dragons, such care is expected,” he confirmed with a huff. “An alpha who cannot tend their omega’s needs before full claiming would be unworthy of the bond.”

Her fingertip traced the edge of a particularly large scale near his wrist, sending unexpected ripples of pleasure through his form. “How does it work among dragons? Mating, I mean.”

His tail shifted, wrapping more securely around her sleeping platform. The innocent curiosity in her tone belied the intimate nature of her question.

“Dragon omegas experience heat once yearly,” he began, choosing his words carefully. “Unlike other species with seasonal cycles, ours can occur at any time.”

“And then what happens?”

“When an unmated omega enters heat, there is a mating flight. The same goes for other female dragons whenever they have the urge.” The ancient tradition flashed through his mind—wings unfurled against lavender skies, clouds parting before powerful bodies locked in ritual pursuit. Once, it happened multiple times, daily—but now, it rarely happened due to their low populace. “Those wishing to claim them must prove their worthiness through aerial conquest.”

Her eyes widened, her hand stilling, fascination displacing any lingering shyness. “Wait, you mate in the sky? While flying?”

A rumble of amusement escaped him. “It begins in the sky,” he clarified. “The chase, the claiming—these occur in the open air. But the completion of the bond typically takes place in private breeding chambers surrounding the hatching grounds.”

“Why there specifically?”

“The chambers encircle the sacred moonwell. After heat subsides, the omega bathes in its waters—as does any other recently mated female—to cleanse body and spirit. Their partners will tend to them through their ritual, making sure they’re well cared for.”

She fell into a thoughtful silence, absorbing his words with the quiet focus he’d come to admire. Her fingers resumed their gentle path along his scales, each delicate touch drawing a deep, contented purr from his chest, meant for her alone.

She hesitated, her eyes flicking up to his before dropping again. When she spoke, her voice came quieter, the words slower—almost hesitant. “And what about... well, what happens when a dragon shares a bond with a rider?”

Her question stirred memories long buried—of a time before the Great Sundering, when such pairings were celebrated rather than persecuted. When humans and dragons joined not just in partnership but in mutual devotion—for the betterment of both species.

“It varies with each pairing,” he answered honestly. “Very rarely are they able to maintain separation between their riding bond and their personal lives, treating it as a sacred partnership but nothing more. Others...” He paused, his gaze drifting to the balcony ledge where the sunrise shimmered across mountain snow. “Others allow it to evolve—naturally, powerfully—into something deeper. The bond between a dragon and their rider isn’t just physical or tactical. It’s emotional, spiritual. It threads through the soul like a second heartbeat.

“Emotions, instincts, even dreams begin to align. It’s more than trust. It’s fusion. A connection that makes each individual stronger, more grounded—more whole. Some say it’s the purest form of love and loyalty our kind can experience.”

He glanced back at her, a sense of longing taking root deep within his chest. “And when that bond is shared—when two or more bonded pairs choose to unite—it creates something even rarer: a pod. A close-knit unit, deeper than blood. Those who can love beyond their partner with another brings a familial strength.”

He drew in a breath, then exhaled slowly through his nose, his head tilting while adjusting his wings. “But it’s not without risk. That kind of closeness strips away every layer. Just like there’s no hiding in a bond, there’s also not any in a pod—only honesty, vulnerability, and the unspoken promise. Its strength is also its weakness. For death is felt soul deep.”

“Then… why?” Sora tilted her head, chin pressing lightly onto his forearm as she looked up at him. “Why would anyone choose that? To tie themselves to someone—maybe multiple someones—knowing they could lose it all?”

“Because we yearn for someone beyond ourselves,” he explained, as he tried to define his own emptiness in his own being that he had felt all his lifetime. “Someone to know us— truly know us—and still stay. A bond like that means never being alone. Not in thought. Not in pain. Not even in death.”

He studied her, wondering if such a thing existed where she came from. “That kind of connection wasn’t discovered until dragons and humans became more than allies. More than rider and beast. Our healers say it’s a gift from the Moon Goddess herself. A bridge. A way to unite her children… to see past blood and bone, to the soul.”

Sora’s breath hitched softly, tickling his scales. “That sounds…” She hesitated, color rising in her cheeks. “It sounds romantic. Devoted. Kinda like soulmates.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“No, I just—” Her gaze darted away, her hands dropping, fingers curling slightly against the fabric of her blanket. “I mean, it is … but—” She glanced up again, lashes brushing her cheeks. “But physically… how would that even work ?”

Ignis blinked, wishing once again he’d given her more time in the great library—or at the very least, bring back some books about Artania’s biology and social norms.

She buried her face in her blanket, muffling a mortified groan—making him immediately miss it pressed against his forearm. “I can’t believe I just asked that.”

A spark ignited in his core. Interest. Arousal. The urge to tease her, please her, and care for her—marking her essence upon his scales—once again.

“You forget, little Luna,” he murmured, lowering his head closer, “we aren’t bound by flesh, especially not when it comes to alphas and omegas. Dragons mate as dragons, but when they have human partners—”

She peeked up at him again, blue eyes wide.

“And when their bond is real… when the desire is mutual…” he explained slowly, watching her reaction carefully with amusement. “Everything fits. ”

Her gaze wavered. Lips parted, then pressed shut around a bitten breath as she worried her bottom lip, shaking her head slightly—like she was trying to make sense of something that wouldn’t quite fit.

He moved without thinking, compelled to reassure her.

One wing swept forward, slow and sure, curling around the edge of her bed—a shield—to protect her from her own doubts.

“I would ensure your body was fully prepared,” he added, voice gentling further. “The transformation you undergo changes more than your appearance. Your physiology adapts to accept any alpha. The silver scales emerging across your skin are merely the visible manifestation of deeper changes—perfect for a dragon mate.”

The tension in her shoulders eased first, subtle as a breath. Her fingers, clenched in the folds of the blanket, loosened one by one. Her mouth, once pressed into a line, softened.

“Would you be disappointed?” Her gaze hovered near his chest, as if she was afraid to meet his eyes. “To not have a true mating flight… if we were to complete the bond?”

The question caught him off guard, piercing something ancient and tender within. Her concern—not for herself but for what he might lose—stirred a depth of feeling so intense it bordered on pain. Even now, with her on the brink of a profound physical transformation, her focus was on his happiness.

His soul ached with the need to soothe her—to imprint himself upon her so completely that neither world nor fate could ever separate them.

Scent her. Claim her. Make her utterly and irrevocably his.

The wild urge surged through him with breathtaking force. His instincts roared with possessive hunger, demanding he mark her—and prevent any other from having his treasure.

The need to mount her, to drive himself deep within her heat, to fill her with his essence until their souls merged completely—the urge was nearly overwhelming.

Yet beneath that ferocious desire lurked something far more terrifying: the possibility of harm.

Even held in check, the sheer force of his body could crush her slender frame without meaning to. The size difference between them was not merely a practical concern but a lethal one.

Her transformation progressed rapidly, but incomplete adaptation meant vulnerability.

If he claimed her too soon—if instinct overrode judgment during the frenzy of mating—he could tear her delicate flesh, shatter her fragile bones, extinguish the precious life that had already become more essential to him than his own.

The devastating image of her broken beneath him, life flowing crimson across his scales, chilled his blood despite the fire perpetually burning beneath his skin.

No. He would rather endure another thousand years of solitude than risk her life to slake his hunger—not when they had time. Not when it was still her choice to be with him.

There were more important things to focus on—like their upcoming meeting with Celestoria and rescuing Coal. He couldn’t lose sight of his responsibilities as king, not at these trying times, no matter how delicious the omega in his forearms smelled.

“How could I miss what I’ve never experienced?” He leaned closer, his immense head dwarfing her delicate form, yet she showed no fear. “You’re more than enough, exactly as you are. More than I dared hope for.”

He brought his head closer, his breath warming her skin as he inhaled her changing scent, strands of her long golden hair tickling his snout—moonflower and cinnamon now held notes of smoke and starlight.

Increasingly intoxicating. Increasingly tempting…

The vulnerability in her eyes began to recede, replaced by something warmer, more certain. Her hand rose to touch the sensitive scales beneath his jaw, sending ripples of sensation cascading through his form.

“ We would forge our own path, ” he promised, closing his eyes as he leaned into her touch. “ Human-dragon pairs existed long before the Great Sundering tore our worlds apart. There is no reason we cannot be together as they once did.”

“I wish the skies were safe,” she whispered, her fingers trailing from his scales to stroke the sensitive membrane of his wing where he had extended it beside her bed. The innocent touch sent electricity down his spine, stoking embers he’d barely managed to bank. “So your people could fly freely without fear. So fledglings could learn without hiding. So you could show me what it’s like—to soar without looking over our shoulders for arrows or royal guards.”

The wistfulness in her voice mirrored his own long-suppressed yearning—for open skies, for the winds of freedom across his wings, for the right to exist without persecution.

For the right to show her the world from above, to feel her body pressed against his as they pierced clouds together.

“That is my hope as well,” he admitted, the confession spilling forth before he could contain it. He opened his eyes and stilled—her gaze held the sky, so blue and boundless—impossible to look away from.

“Then we’ll make it happen. Together.”

The simplicity of her declaration—the easy inclusion of herself in his future—threatened to unravel his careful composure. No elaborate vows or formal acceptance, just quiet certainty that their paths now wound irrevocably together.

He was the last—the final pure-blood king, the solitary guardian of a diminishing legacy. Now, watching silver scales shimmer across her human skin in patterns that mirrored his own, he dared to hope for…

Not merely survival for his clan, but renewal…

And for her to be his queen in truth, not merely title.