No. No.
She tried to remind herself that she was looking at two predators hunting her across the sky. Two ancient beasts who would want to keep her caged.
She should feel terror.
Rage.
Disgust.
Not this molten ache that pulsed harder every time Korin's golden wings beat closer. Not this treacherous shiver that raced down her spine when Pyrran's silver eyes found hers across the distance.
What is wrong with me?
Her dragon body wanted them—desperately, hungrily, with an instinct older than thought.
Mates.
The word unlocked something feral in her core. She felt herself clench—felt the slick readiness blooming between her haunches, her dragon body preparing itself for claiming. For breeding. For being filled by not one but two ancient kings who would fight each other for the right to mount her first.
The image flashed unbidden: Korin's golden form covering her from behind while Pyrran watched with those hungry silver eyes, waiting his turn. Or both of them at once, somehow, their fire and ice meeting inside her— She shivered.
NO!
Sol wrenched her gaze forward and flew harder. She didn't understand this body. Didn't understand the heat brutally throbbing between her haunches, didn't understand why the sight of them made her feel like prey and predator all at once.
She only knew she had to get away—from them, from this feeling, from whatever her dragon heart was trying to make her want.
Sol—despite everything, despite the power singing through her veins, despite the wings carrying her through the sky—was still afraid.
She didn't want to go back. Didn't want to be caged in that treasure hoard, surrounded by gold, bones, and the hungry gazes of two ancient beasts who claimed she belonged to them.
She wanted to fly.
She wanted to be free.
So she raced away.
Her wings beat harder—stronger—and she felt the air bend around her as she picked up speed. The wind screamed past her horns. The clouds tore apart in her wake.
She was faster than she had expected, faster than she had any right to be, her new body cut through the sky like a blade through silk.
But they were faster too.
She glanced back and saw them gaining. Korin's roar echoed across the heavens—not angry, but pleading. Pyrran's silver eyes gleamed with something she couldn't name.
No. I won't go back. I won't—
A mountain loomed ahead.
Sol's eyes widened. It was one of the carved peaks from the dragon kingdom below—a hollowed-out spire of black volcanic rock with a gaping hole at its summit. She was heading straight for it.
Turn! Turn!
But she didn't know how. Her wings wouldn't respond the way she wanted. Her body was too new, too unfamiliar. She tried to bank left.
Too late.
She plummeted through the hole.
