Like finally remembering how to breathe.
My vision shifts. Sharpens. Colors bleeding into ranges I’ve never seen. I can smell their stench now—aggression sharp and acrid beneath tactical gear and gun oil.
One of them sees me. His eyes widen. Mouth opens to shout a warning.
Too late.
My body launches forward. Except I’m not running. I’m—
Flying.
Wings. Massive. Golden. Catching air currents I can sense without thinking.
The men scatter. Shouting. Weapons raised.
I don’t care.
My focus narrows to Mara. Unconscious now. One of them hauling her over his shoulder like cargo.
Like she’snothing.
I descend.
The impact shakes trees. Claws—I have claws—dig furrows in frozen earth. My tail whips out, catching two men and sending them flying into trunks with sickening cracks.
The one holding Mara drops her. Fumbles for his weapon.
I roar.
The sound is primal. Terrifying. It reverberates through the forest and makes the men freeze.
Then I’m on them.
Fire erupts from my throat. Not small flames—this is a torrent. A wall of molten gold that turns night to day and sends the operatives scrambling.
But some of them aren’t running.
They’rechanging.
Bones crack. Flesh tears. Scales emerge.
Dragons.
The realization should shock me. Should make me pause.
It doesn’t.
Because they’re smaller. Weaker. Their scales dull compared to the brilliant gold covering my body.
And they tried to take her.
The first one lunges. Bronze scales catching firelight. Claws extended.
I meet him mid-air. My jaws close around his throat. One shake and he’s falling, shifting back to human form before he hits the ground.
The others attack together. Coordinated. Professional.
It doesn’t matter.
