Pyrran.
For several minutes, the dragon in the lake did not move. He simply watched them approach with those terrible silver eyes, his massive head still half-submerged, nostrils flaring just above the waterline.
Steam curled around his snout.
Gold coins drifted against his scales.
Sol began to tremble.
This was not like meeting Korin. When she had faced the golden-eyed dragon, there had been terror, yes—but also something else. A pull. A recognition. A heat that matched her cold.
But Pyrran?
Pyrran made her want to scream and run.
“Do not be afraid.” Korin stopped at the water's edge and gently lowered Sol to her feet.
“Why is he looking at me that way?”
“He’s not used to anyone being in here besides our servants.”
“Servants?”
“Yes. We are gods and must be prayed to and serviced.”
“But. . .” Her legs nearly buckled, but Korin’s hand remained firm at her back, steadying her.
"Stand." Korin smiled. "Pyrran needs to see you. To smell you. To know."
Sol's teeth chattered. She was still naked, still trembling, still trying to process everything that had happened. And now she was standing before another dragon—another beast who could incinerate her with a single breath.
Oh wait. I suppose his fire won’t work on me either. . .
"This is my brother Pyrran." Korin’s voice carried across the water. "And Pyrran. . .this is our queen."
For a long moment, nothing happened.
Sol’s heart hammered in her chest.
Then Pyrran moved.
Water cascaded from his massive form as his head rose from the lake. Gold coins slid down his scales in glittering waterfalls. His neck uncoiled—longer than Korin's, Sol realized, or perhaps it just seemed that way because of how slowly he moved.
How deliberately.
And then out of nowhere. . .he roared.
The sound was different from Korin's. Where Korin's roar had been fire and fury, Pyrran's was ice and shadow. It rolled across the cavern like thunder trapped in a canyon, shaking the crystals in the walls, sending ripples racing across the golden lake.
Sol screamed and stumbled backward, but Korin caught her. "Easy. Pyrran is. . .testing you."
"Testing me?!" Sol gasped and held up her hands at the dragon, preparing herself to shoot him with ice.
But Korin only laughed—a low, warm sound that was utterly mad given the circumstances. "My brother is not easily swayed like me. It takes him time."
Still, Sol kept her ice ready to shoot out of her hands if he tried to come closer.
Pyrran's silver eyes cruelly narrowed. He didn’t appear warmed to her at all. When he spoke, his voice was nothing like Korin's sensual rumble.
