Page 30 of Beneath Scales and Shadows (Lost Lunas of Artania #1)
CHAPTER THIRTY
IGNIS
Ignis adjusted the drape of Sora’s formal gown with possessive precision, allowing his clawed fingers to linger over the strategic cutouts that revealed her silver scales. The midnight-blue silk cascaded from her shoulders in a waterfall of starlit elegance, its silver embroidery catching the light exactly as he’d intended—complementing yet never outshining her natural beauty.
What captivated him most were the ruby scales now interspersed among her silver ones—his claim manifested in her flesh, a physical testament to their bond. The scales formed a delicate pathway from the ruby disk embedded in her side up to his claim mark at her throat, visible through the carefully crafted openings in the gown.
His chest swelled with fierce, near-overwhelming pride.
“You look...” Words failed him as she turned, sapphire eyes meeting his with quiet confidence that hadn’t existed before her heat.
He flooded her with everything words couldn’t hold—adoration, reverence, possessive pride, and beneath it all, a depth of gratitude that rooted him to her beyond reason.
“Like a queen?” she suggested, a teasing smile playing at her lips as she smoothed her hands over the silk. Her golden hair had been partially braided, the rest falling in loose waves past her shoulders.
“Like my queen,” he corrected, the rumble in his voice betraying the hunger that still simmered beneath his control, even days after her heat had subsided. If she was willing, he would gladly take her again to show how much he craved her. “Born to rule at my side.”
She tilted her head, a flicker of amusement slipping into the connection between them, warm and unspoken. “Five days locked in our chambers and suddenly I’m royalty.”
“You were royalty the moment you stepped between me and that poisoned blade… perhaps even that arrow, since you’d already ensnared me then.” He captured her hand, pressing his lips to her knuckles. “The heat merely confirmed what was already written in the stars.”
He caught the quiet acceptance in her, no resistance, no bristling at the mention of fate or prophecy—only a steady, silent surrender that wrapped around him like scale oil, smoothing over fractures he hadn’t realized were there. Her confidence had solidified during their mating, turning into something uniquely powerful.
“The council awaits.” He offered his arm, wings shifting to create a partial canopy over her—an extension of his protective instinct, perhaps even possessiveness that he couldn’t—and wouldn’t—shake. “Are you ready?”
Her chin tipped up, one brow arched, though a teasing smirk tugged at her lips. “Let’s not keep them waiting any longer.”
They emerged from their chambers into corridors of polished stone and glowing crystals that seemed to pulse brighter in their presence.
The whispers began immediately—dragons in various forms pausing in their duties, eyes widening at the sight of their king and his newly claimed queen. Ignis felt their awe ripple through the mountain, overwhelming him with pride. Heads bowed as they passed, but gazes lingered on Sora’s blended scales.
He caught the flicker of her discomfort—felt it thrumming beneath her calm exterior—but she never let it show. He sent reassurance back to her, silent pride threading through their connection.
“They’re not staring at you,” he murmured, bending his head closer to hers. “They’re witnessing something none living have seen, scale-sharing between mates.”
The guards at the council chamber bowed deeply, wings sweeping the floor in formal deference rarely displayed even to him. The doors swung open, revealing the gathered council within—not seated at their usual positions around the table, but standing in a loose semicircle, waiting.
Ignis guided Sora inside, gratified by the awed silence that greeted them.
His gaze swept the chamber, cataloging each reaction with practiced precision. Blaze and Enixa stood together, eyes widening at the visible markers of Sora’s transformation. Asher bowed his head respectfully, a healer’s satisfaction evident in his posture. Cinderfell’s ancient eyes glistened with what might have been tears if dragon’s could cry—unprecedented for the stoic advisor.
Zalaya’s feathers rustled with approval, her harpy form dropping into a deep curtsy that spoke of ancient rituals remembered. But it was the sight of Coal and Ember that seized Ignis’s attention most forcefully.
The spy sat in a chair, his dragoon form still weakened by the tortures endured at Celestorian hands. Patches of skin remained scaleless and raw, though healing had clearly begun. Ember hovered beside him, her scarred face softened by devotion as she fussed with a bandage on his forearm.
The sight of his oldest friends together, alive and healing, sent a wave of relief through Ignis so powerful it momentarily crossed their bond to Sora, who’d given him a small smile.
“My king. My queen.” Coal’s voice emerged stronger than his appearance suggested, pride evident despite the physical toll of his ordeal. “Forgive me for not rising.”
Sora moved forward before Ignis could respond, closing the distance to Coal’s chair. She knelt gracefully, taking the spy’s damaged hand between her own—the gesture so natural and queenly it might have been instinctive.
“There is nothing to forgive,” she said, her voice clear and steady in the hushed chamber. “We owe you our gratitude, not the other way around.”
Ignis stepped beside her, placing his hand on her shoulder. “You honored our clan with your sacrifice, old friend.” He extended his other hand to Ember, who seized his hand with a fierce, trembling grip. “Both of you did. Without your courage, this victory would not have been possible.”
“We did our duty,” Ember replied, though her amber eyes softened at the recognition. “If we hadn’t, who knows what more damage they could’ve done.”
“And now your duty is to heal.” Ignis’s tone made it clear this was a command, not a suggestion. “I’ll have no need of either of your services for some time.”
Coal’s lips twitched toward a smile. “Are you dismissing us, my king?”
“I’m ordering you to rest,” Ignis corrected, squeezing Ember’s hand before releasing it. “Both of you. Our clan needs you at full strength for what comes next.”
“And what does come next?” Ember asked, her natural protectiveness surfacing even through her exhaustion.
Ignis extended a wing to curl partially around Sora as she rose to stand beside him. “A new era for our clan—and for all of Artania.”
When he looked down at Sora, the pride that filled his chest threatened to overwhelm him once again.
He caught the ripple of her response—softer than his fierce pride, but no less powerful, wrapping around him with quiet, undeniable strength.
Belonging. Purpose. Home.
She’d refused to allow others to harm her clan—once more.
Zalaya stepped forward, tilting her head as her ancient eyes studied Sora with open fascination. “I would examine the queen, with your permission.” Her gaze shifted to Ignis. “To ensure her health after such an... intense claim.”
Heat stirred between them, Sora’s embarrassment tangling with the vivid memory of their passionate days together. Ignis suppressed the growl building in his chest at the thought of anyone, even their healers, touching his mate so soon after claiming her.
“A brief examination,” he permitted, the possessiveness in his tone unmistakable. “We have a busy day ahead of us.”
Asher joined Zalaya, his healer’s hands already glowing with diagnostic magic as they approached Sora. She stood still as they circled her, their assessment respectful but thorough.
“Remarkable,” Asher murmured, fingers hovering over the ruby scales mixed with silver. “The integration is perfect. As though they’ve always been part of her.”
“Because they have,” Zalaya replied, her feathers rustling with quiet wonder. “Her soul accepted his essence completely.”
“What does it mean?” Sora asked, her scholar’s curiosity evident despite the formal setting.
“It means the Moon Goddess herself has blessed your union,” Zalaya explained, stepping back with a deep bow. “She has marked you as true mates—souls forged for each other across worlds and time, for a reason.”
Her words struck deep, and he felt the last of her doubts break apart, dissolving into a steady, undeniable certainty that anchored between them. The last vestiges of her resistance to prophecy and fate faded, replaced by quiet acceptance.
“And her health?” he demanded, impatience threading through his tone. “Has she suffered any harm?”
Asher bowed respectfully. “None whatsoever, my king. Her transformation is complete, her body has adapted perfectly to your claim.” His eyes held professional admiration. “You showed remarkable restraint, considering the intensity of a first heat.”
The relief that rushed through Ignis was so visceral it sent a visible shudder across his scales. The fear that had lurked beneath his consciousness—that he might have harmed her in their passion despite his care—finally released its grip on his hearts.
“Of course I did,” he growled, pulling her close. “She is my treasure.”
Zalaya stepped between them, her gaze locking onto his, ancient wisdom flickering in the depths of her jade eyes. “The clan has gathered, my king. They await your formal announcement.” She paused, head tilting in avian consideration. “And after, the sacred moonwell awaits. As tradition demands, newly mated pairs must bathe in its waters to cleanse body and spirit.”
“For any blessed eggs that may have been created during your union,” Asher added with clinical precision.
Heat flooded through their bond again—Sora’s surprise and sudden understanding coloring their connection with delicate embarrassment. Ignis sent back reassurance, though his own chest tightened at the thought of potential offspring from their mating.
It was too soon to know, but the possibility swelled within him like a secret flame.
His clan had always raised hatchlings communally, but something deeper stirred in him now—a fierce, undeniable need to breed her, to fill their clan with a legacy born of them both.
“I know what must be done,” he acknowledged, his gaze flicking to Sora before turning to his gathered council. "Lead the way to the hatching grounds. It's time our clan formally meets their queen. And tonight, as tradition demands, I will worship her beneath the twin moons, within the sacred waters of the moonwell."
The procession through the mountain passages took on ceremonial weight, the council forming a protective escort around Ignis and Sora. Through the twisted crystal corridors they moved, descending deeper into the mountain’s heart until the passages widened dramatically, opening into the vast cavern that housed the hatching grounds.
The space stole Sora’s breath, her awe hitting him like a bright, sudden rush as she took it in for the first time.
The cavern stretched impossibly wide, its ceiling lost in shadows hundreds of feet above. At its center lay a perfectly circular pool of opalescent water, luminous with internal light. Surrounding the sacred moonwell, terraced ledges rose in concentric circles, each housing cup-shaped depressions lined with shimmering crystal sand.
And occupying every available space—perched on ledges, hovering on powerful wings, standing in half-forms along the terraces—was his clan. Hundreds of dragons, their scales a living tapestry of color ranging from deepest obsidian to brightest gold, had gathered to witness this moment.
The collective intake of breath as Sora stepped into the cavern rose above the soft lapping of the moonwell’s waters. Ignis felt it ripple through the mountain like a living force—thick with awe, reverence, and fragile hope.
A ripple of Sora’s unease brushed against him, the press of so many watching eyes tugging at the calm she fought to hold. He sent back waves of calm confidence, his wing brushing hers in silent reassurance.
“ They already love you,” he assured. “ As I do.”
They stood at the edge of the sacred moonwell, the opalescent water reflecting their joined forms like a living mirror. Blaze and Enixa stepped forward, positioning themselves on either side of the pool. As the only other alphas in the clan, tradition demanded they acknowledge them first.
“Dragons of the Dralux Clan,” Blaze’s voice resonated through the cavern, amplified by the natural acoustics of living stone. "Before you stands your King, Ignis—last pure-blood of his line—who has at last claimed his queen."
“Behold Luna Sora,” Enixa continued, her emerald scales catching the sunlight streaming from above. “Dragon-blooded and blessed by the Moon Goddess herself.”
Ignis stepped forward, drawing Sora with him. “My clan,” he began, his voice carrying to the furthest reaches of the cavern without effort. “You have served with honor through generations of hardship. You have endured persecution, dwindling numbers, and forced isolation with dignity and courage that honors our ancestors.”
He swept his gaze across the gathered dragons, meeting as many eyes as possible. “Through your efforts, we have broken the evil that plagued our kind for centuries.” Pride swelled within him. “The corruption of omega essence has been purged. The Celestorian royal line that betrayed our ancestors has been held accountable for their crimes.”
A low rumble of approval spread through the crowd, wings shifting and tails swishing in collective satisfaction.
“None of this would have been possible without the arrival of my mate.” He drew Sora forward, presenting her to the clan with undisguised reverence. “It is her wisdom that guided our strategy. Her courage that saved countless lives. Her sacrifice that sealed our victory.”
Sora held her ground beside him, the flicker of earlier nerves fading into a steady, quiet dignity he could feel settle between them. The midnight silk of her gown caught the soft sunlight and turned her into something otherworldly.
Every part of her looked like a queen— his queen —and the entire cavern seemed to hold its breath at the sight of her.
“Together, we will rebuild what was lost,” Ignis continued, his wing curling protectively around her shoulders. “We will reestablish alliances with our neighbors. We will strengthen our clan through renewed trade and open skies.” His voice dropped, resonating with emotion. “And we will ensure that no dragon—or monster—ever again lives in fear of such treachery again.”
The approval rippling through the cavern grew louder, transforming into a crescendo of growls and rumbles that vibrated the very stone beneath their feet, making the mountain alive with their sound.
“None of this would be possible without my Luna, my queen, Sora.” He turned to her, emotion threatening to overwhelm his carefully maintained composure. “She has completed me in ways I never imagined possible. She has brought light back to our mountain after centuries of shadow. The flames of magic have returned to our land, a blessing from the Moon Goddess herself."
Ignis pulled Sora into his embrace, claiming her mouth in a kiss that silenced the cavern instantly. The possessive display broke draconic tradition, where such intimate gestures were reserved for private chambers, after the betrayal murder of Queen Vaelora, the last dragon-blooded omega queen.
Such displays showed weakness to their enemies—but he refused to hide his queen from the world she was brought here to save.
Yet as his lips moved against hers, as her arms wound around his neck in perfect acceptance, the silence transformed into something else entirely. A roar of approval erupted from hundreds of throats, echoing through the mountain with seismic force.
Mated pairs and pods embraced, displaying their own love to the clan—to the world in celebration.
When he finally released her, both of them breathing heavily, Ignis turned back to his clan with fierce pride. “Today, we celebrate! Today, for the first time in generations, we fly openly beneath the sun. We reclaim our rightful place in Artania’s skies!”
The responding roar threatened to bring down the mountain itself.
Ignis stepped back, scales rippling as he transformed into his true draconic form. The crystal light played over his ruby scales as he settled beside the sacred moonwell, wings half-unfurled, offering her a space at his back that was meant for her alone.
"My queen," he sent to her, the words cutting through the roar of celebration. “Our first flight awaits.”
Sora approached without hesitation, her midnight gown billowing around her as she placed one hand on his scaled shoulder. With practiced ease—as though she’d been mounting dragons her entire life—she swung up onto his back, settling into the natural hollow between his neck ridges.
He refused to ruin this moment becoming jealous of a creature large enough to be a snack in his true form.
“Hold tight,” he warned, fierce joy surging as her fingers tightened around the ridge scales at the base of his neck.
With a powerful thrust of his wings, he launched upward, carrying her toward the vast opening in the cavern’s ceiling where sunlight streamed through in brilliant columns. The wind rushed past them as they ascended, Sora’s delighted laughter flowing through their bond with infectious joy.
They burst into open sky, the twin moons greeted them, visible in the daylight. Below them stretched the Dralux territories—forests, mountains, and valleys painted in winter colors.
The beauty of it all, seen from dragon-back, drew a gasp from Sora that Ignis felt more than heard.
“If you think it’s beautiful now, wait until spring comes and turn into summer,” Ignis pathed. “That is when our land is at its peak.”
“ It’s magnificent.” Her thought brushed his consciousness. “ Our kingdom.”
“Ours,” he agreed, banking in a wide arc that displayed his ruby scales to breathtaking advantage against the lavender sky. “ To protect. To restore. To rule—together.”
Behind them, the mountain seemed to erupt as hundreds of dragons poured from the opening, their scales catching sunlight in a prismatic explosion of color. They filled the sky in swirling formations, their joyous bugling creating a symphony of freedom that hadn’t been heard over these territories in generations.
Ember and Coal remained below—the spy still too injured for flight—with her family standing beside them staring up at the clan’s display in awe.
Ignis spotted Blaze and Enixa leading their wings in intricate aerial displays, demonstrating the precision and skill that had made dragonkind legendary.
“ Happy?” he asked, catching the rush of her emotions—wonder, exhilaration, a deep, steady sense of belonging—pour through her and into him.
“ Beyond words,” she replied, leaning forward to press herself against his neck, her chest against his scales in perfect trust.
Ignis roared his satisfaction, flames erupting from his jaws in a golden torrent that painted the sky. The clan responded with fire of their own—a hundred streams of flame in every color imaginable, creating an aerial spectacle visible over a great distance in all directions.
“Let all of Artania see,” he announced to his clan. “Let them know that dragonkind flies free once more.”
He banked again, leading his clan in a wide circle over their territory, Sora’s laughter harmonizing with his roars of triumph. Emotions beyond words flooded between them—completion, joy, purpose—woven so tightly he couldn't tell where she ended and he began.
In all his long existence, Ignis had never known happiness like this. Not in his decades of rule, not in the treasures accumulated in his hoard, not in victories won or territories defended.
True happiness, he realized, was the woman on his back, her golden hair streaming behind her like a banner, her silver-and-ruby scales marking her as his—and him as hers.
True happiness was the clan following in their wake, the future stretching before them bright with possibility.
True happiness was having someone to share it all with—someone who saw him completely, both beast and king, and chose him anyway.
As they soared higher, the twin moons casting their silver gaze across the sky, Ignis bared himself completely to her—no shields, no restraint—flooding their bond with the raw, aching truth of his heart. “ I love you, my treasure. Beyond prophecy. Beyond both worlds and time. I love you.”
Her response flowed back to him like liquid warmth—instant and fierce—wrapping around his twin hearts. “ And I love you, my dragon king. Now and always.”
They were dragon and human.
Alpha and omega. King and queen.
Two souls, forged by choice as much as fate, soared beneath the endless Artanian sky—together as one.