A Throne of Talons
Sol
Korin—the God Dragon of fire and death—held Sol in the sky, and against all reason, all logic, all fear. . .she felt safe.
His claws were vast and shimmering in burnished shades of black and gold. They curved around her like a throne built for the sky itself—an impossible nest of talons that held her as if she were crafted to be carried across the stars.
Lush heat radiated from him.
His talons—curved obsidian sickles around her waist and thighs—cradled her with a terrifying gentleness. He never pierced her flesh or pressed too hard.
Wind tore around them.
Each wing stroke was a thunderous wave of sound and power, making her body tremble. The gusts hissed past her ears, but theway his wings beat—rhythmic and almighty—formed a current that protected her.
When he picked up speed, his massive frame sent shockwaves through the night sky, bending moonlight, eviscerating clouds, and claiming space that no creature should have the right to command.
If Korin chose to drop Sol, no one would or could save her.
And still. . .there was a strange comfort in his prison of scales, claws, and heat. In fact. . .a small, shameful part of Sol wanted to see what else a god like him could show her.
Sol scanned the sky.
The stars look different up here. I might be losing my mind and getting ready to die, but. . .at least I’m doing it beautifully.
Sol shifted, tucking her knees closer to her chest, and the movement brought her tighter into his grip. The curved edges of his talons adjusted with her shifting, flexing just slightly to accommodate her frame.
Why did he do that?
She should have been afraid. She should have been screaming again.
And then one of those claws brushed against her skin, triggering her flesh to buzz.
Did he do that intentionally?
She leaned forward and reached her hand out to the claw and. . .the closer her fingers got, the more her magic swelled. Sweet and electric. Eager even. . .as if it had finally found something it didn’t know it was missing.
What is happening to me?
She didn't understand it, but her core did. The cold part of her. The old part. The part of her magic that had never truly spoken—only reacted—nowleanedtoward him. It was as if her frost had found its flame, and wanted to melt.
Why does Korin have this effect on me?
She pulled back slightly, pressing her spine against the curl of his other talon, trying to control her breathing. Meanwhile, her power bloomed from the contact.
She swallowed hard, glancing down at her fingertips, half-expecting to see frost threading from her nails.
Nothing showed.
But shefelther power’s excitement.
She returned to focusing on her breathing, yet his scent filled her nostrils—jasmine, stormwater, and flame.
Her pulse stuttered.
Focus on something else.
She looked down, and realized she had no idea how long he'd been carrying her.
