Thousands of them.
Perhaps millions.
They drifted in slow, hypnotic spirals, catching the light from above.
And above. . .
Sol tilted her head back, and her heart nearly stopped.
High above them, the cavern narrowed to a jagged opening—a hole in the top of what she now realized was a hollowed-out mountain.
Her nerves frazzled.
Where is Korin’s brother?
Sol put her view back on the lake. Steam rose from the edges of the lake. The water stirred and tons of bubbles broke the golden surface.
"Welcome to the heart of our home," Korin murmured against her ear. "This is where we were born. Where we have lived for centuries. And now. . .where you will rule beside us."
Sol couldn't respond because something began to rise in the center of the huge lake.
A shape.
Massive.
Threatening.
At first, she thought it was an island—a mound of black stone rising from the golden waters. But then the shape shifted. Scales the color of midnight and silver caught the light.
A spine ridged with obsidian spikes broke the surface.
And then. . .gigantic eyes opened. Two orbs of molten silver—not gold like Korin's, but cold and bright as winter moons—fixed upon her from across the lake.
Sol's body locked.
No. No. No.
The creature in the lake was identical to Korin in his dragon form—the same impossible size, the same brutal elegance, the same raw power that made the air itself tremble.
But where Korin's scales had been black and gold, this dragon was black and silver.
Where Korin's eyes burned like twin suns, these eyes gleamed like large moons.
The same.
And yet. . .different.
Colder.
Harder.
Hungrier.
"K-Korin. . ." Sol's voice cracked. "I’m scared."
"It is only my brother. Your king." Korin shifted her in his arms, adjusting his grip on her naked body as he began to walk toward the edge of the lake. "Pyrran."
The name hung in the air like a curse.
