Page 29 of Beneath Scales and Shadows (Lost Lunas of Artania #1)
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
SORA
Sunlight filtered through crystal apertures overhead, bathing the wrecked chamber in its ethereal glow. Sora stirred, her body adrift between exhaustion and a strange, weightless calm.
The fierce, desperate heat that had consumed her for five relentless days had finally subsided, leaving behind a bone-deep satisfaction.
Something she once thought she could never be—after the endless, instinct driven need she’d experienced.
She stretched languidly, wincing as dormant muscles protested. Her skin felt hypersensitive, each brush of air against her scales sending pleasant tingles rather than the desperate fire that had consumed her throughout her heat.
Ignis draconic ruby form lay curled around what remained of their nest—a decimated collection of pillows, furs, and silken sheets. His breathing came deep and even, his enormous head resting beside her. Even in slumber, his tail remained curled protectively around her, an unconscious claim that warmed her heart. She’d enjoyed his possessiveness and how he’d always treated her as if she were the most precious thing he had ever known.
Her movement stirred him. One crimson eye slid open, sharp and watchful, cutting through the haze of his exhaustion the moment he caught sight of her—awake.
“Good morning,” she whispered, voice rough from days of passionate cries.
A rumble of affection vibrated through his chest, the sensation traveling through the stone floor to her body. His body shimmered as he shifted, scales flowing like liquid fire as his draconic form contracted. Within moments, he stood in his dragoon form beside their ruined nest, wings folded neatly against his back.
Ignis’s crimson gaze swept over the destruction surrounding them. Pillows lay eviscerated, their delicate stuffing scattered across the chamber floor. Silks hung in tatters from the sleeping platform. Furs were singed at the edges—evidence of moments when his control had slipped, releasing small bursts of dragon fire in the height of passion.
“I must retrieve new pillows and blankets for you,” he announced, frowning at the devastation. “To build you a proper nest.”
Sora couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her lips. After everything they’d shared—the raw, primal claiming, the tender moments between—his concern for proper nesting materials struck her as endearingly domestic.
Something she’d never thought to hear from an alpha dragon king.
“Maybe we need to get a dragon-proofed mattress,” she teased, pushing herself upright. “Or at least a flame resistant one.”
He huffed, smoke curling from his nostrils. “There is no such thing.”
Her gaze swept the wrecked chamber with a glance, taking in the full extent of the damage. Not just their nest had suffered—Ignis’s meticulously arranged hoard lay scattered as though a tornado had ripped through. Silken blankets shredded and half-buried beneath overturned rugs, pillows torn open and spilling feathers like snow across the stone floor. Precious gems and coins littered the floor in careless constellations. Ancient books lay splayed open, pages fluttering in the mountain’s natural air currents.
What had once been a curated trove of pride and memory now looked like the aftermath of a storm—wild, chaotic, scattered.
“We’ll have to clean the whole chamber,” she observed, heat creeping up her neck as memories flooded back—her body pinned against treasure chests, his draconic form pressing her into piles of gold as he called her his treasure, both of them lost to instinct and need. “Perhaps make it... heat-proof.” The blush deepened on her cheeks.
Ignis surveyed the chaos, his own expression reflecting surprise at their destructive passion. A low rumble filled his chest—not displeasure but something warmer, more satisfied.
“I enjoy hearing you make plans for our future,” he said, his scaled lips curving into a tender smile. “You can do whatever you want to our chambers—for it is now yours, as this mountain, land and clan are.”
Through their strengthened bond, a wave of happiness surged—not just contentment but profound joy. Behind it flashed images so vivid they might have been her own thoughts: herself seated atop his glittering treasure hoard, silver-scaled and nude like a queen upon a throne, while Ignis worshipped her between her legs.
The vision stirred something in her chest, a pleased hum of acceptance rather than the desperate arousal such images would have triggered days before. For the first time since her heat began, the sight of his powerful form didn’t send immediate fire coursing through her veins.
She frowned, pressing a hand to her stomach where the constant ache of need had dwelled. “Is my heat truly over?”
Ignis approached, head tilted in assessment. She felt his presence against her mind, a gentle probing that brought comfort rather than intrusion. His crimson gaze intensified, narrowing as he took her in with slow, deliberate scrutiny.
He reached out, taloned fingers gentle as they found the ruby scale embedded in her side—his sacrifice that had saved her life. With reverent precision, he traced a wavelike path up her torso to her spine, continuing until he reached his mark upon her neck.
“Impossible,” he muttered, voice thick with wonder.
“What?” Anxiety spiked through her. She glanced down, following the path his finger had traced—and froze.
A trail of ruby scales now speckled between her silver ones, forming a delicate pattern that traveled from his embedded scale to the mark at her neck. The contrast was striking—silver and ruby intertwined like a living embodiment of their unique bond and everything they’d gone through—together.
“What does it mean?” she asked, fingers brushing over the new scales with hesitant awe.
Ignis shook his head, a flicker of pride cutting through the bewilderment softening his features. “I do not know.” His finger traced the pattern again, sending pleasant shivers cascading through her. “But I like seeing it.”
The reverence in his touch made her heart squeeze. She leaned into it, savoring the quiet tenderness woven through every brush of his hand.
“There’s more of my claim upon you,” he murmured, voice dropping to a register that rumbled through her bones. “Marking you as my treasure.”
Once, she might have teased him for the possessive note in his voice—might have bristled at it without understanding. But that felt like a lifetime ago, before she truly knew what it meant to be treasured by someone.
His claim wasn’t ownership; it was devotion. Not possession, but protection.
Ignis’s hand wrapped around hers, tugging her gently toward the bathing chamber. “Let us bathe. We must cleanse the stench of our heat mating from us.”
The sacred pools welcomed them with steaming embrace, mineral-rich waters lapping at the stone edges. Sora sank into their depths with a grateful sigh, muscles immediately relaxing as the mountain’s natural healing properties seeped into her battered body.
Ignis joined her, but instead of settling across from her as he usually did—bathing her atop one of the naturally formed stone chairs—he moved behind her. His strong arms wrapped around her waist, drawing her back against the solid warmth of his chest. With a slow, deliberate motion, his wings unfurled, arching over them like a protective canopy, turning the bathing chamber into a private, sacred sanctuary.
“Let me tend to you,” he murmured, reaching for crystal vials containing fragrant oils. “Your body endured the fire of your first heat. Now it’s my hands that will honor you—to see you cleansed, refreshed, and cherished, until you gleam with the strength and beauty that have always belonged to you.”
She knew better than to protest—especially when his mind was set. Before she could even open her mouth, his hands were already working the cleansing oil into her hair with exquisite care. His talons had fully retracted, leaving only strong, calloused fingers to knead gentle circles against her scalp.
Sora melted into his ministrations, her body boneless with contentment. The contrast between this tenderness and the raw, almost violent passion of their heat mating struck her profoundly.
Through their newly strengthened bond, she sensed his pleasure in caring for her—not obligation, but genuine fulfillment in these simple acts of devotion. His emotions flowed into her awareness with crystalline clarity: pride in having satisfied her through her first heat, protectiveness as he tended her recovery, and beneath it all, an abiding love that felt as solid as the mountain itself.
“I can feel you,” she whispered as his hands worked lower, massaging oils into her shoulders where tension had gathered during their extended mating. “Your emotions. They’re so clear now.”
“And I yours,” he rumbled, his chest vibrating against her back. “Clearer than any in my clan have ever been. As though we are one.”
She turned in his embrace, facing him with wide, curious eyes. “Is that normal? This level of connection?”
His scaled lips curved, amusement flickering through their bond. “Nothing about us has ever been normal, little Luna,” he murmured, the words a soft caress against her mind. “But yes—now that we’re an established mated pair, what we once touched only faintly through our blood bond now flows between us without barrier.” His wings shifted slightly, drawing her even closer beneath their shelter. “Our connection will continue to deepen,” he went on, voice low and steady. “With time, it will grow stronger, more seamless. You’ll feel me as easily as breathing—and I, you.” Pride colored his mental presence, wrapping around her like the low rumble of a purr.
“Such bonds were once common between dragon and rider,” he said, a thread of ancient memory lacing his tone. “But rarely have other monsters and humans dared take the next step. Blood bonds, yes—those are needed to survive each other. But to complete a true mating bond...” He traced light, reverent patterns over her waist with his claws. “That is a choice few ever make. A choice to intertwine everything—body, soul, future.”
He nuzzled his nose along her temple, the tender gesture nearly reverent. “And you chose me, little Luna. As I chose you.”
“I like it,” she admitted, leaning to rest her forehead against his chest, inhaling his comforting scent. “I spent my whole life feeling disconnected from others. Even in academic circles where I should have belonged, I felt... apart.”
“You were always meant for this world. For me.”
“For you,” she agreed, the certainty in her voice surprising even herself. “And to help save our kingdom.”
The bond between them thrummed in response, as if her declaration struck some hidden, ancient chord deep inside him. She felt his pleasure surge through their connection—a fierce, unrestrained warmth that wrapped around her like a second embrace. It wasn’t just pride. It was awe, adoration, and the raw, unshakable gratitude of a male who knew he had been truly, irrevocably chosen.
Ignis’s arms tightened around her, his wings drawing her even closer, as if he could imprint her words into his very soul.
“And I could never thank you enough.”
When they’d bathed and dried, Ignis insisted on helping her dress in garments befitting her station. From an ornate chest that had somehow survived their passionate destruction, he withdrew a gown of midnight blue silk embroidered with silver thread that matched her scales. The fabric flowed like water through his hands as he draped it reverently over her shoulders—airy and almost weightless.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, crimson eyes gleaming with appreciation as he stepped back to admire her. “My queen.”
The title no longer felt foreign or unearned.
Something had shifted during those five days of heat—not just her body’s transformation or the deepening of their bond, but her perception of herself.
She wasn’t just Sora Valerith, Earth historian trapped in a foreign body. She was Luna, dragon-blooded omega, mate to the last pure dragon king of his bloodline.
Both identities existed simultaneously within her—not conflicting, but complementary. Something she’d accepted—and was officially comfortable with.
Through their bond, she felt Ignis’s fierce approval of her self-acceptance, his joy at her embracing all aspects of herself. His hand found hers, scaled fingers interlacing with her own. “Are you ready to face our clan?”
She nodded, squeezing his hand. “Yes. It’s time they met their queen.”