"Centuries?" Sol's voice cracked.
"Dragons are pretty much immortal, little queen. Not many things can kill us." Korin's smile was soft. "Did you think you would age and wither like the humans who raised you? You are eternal now. As we are. As you were always meant to be."
Immortal. Eternal. Centuries with them.
And somewhere far away, in a small cottage at the edge of a ruined kingdom, two humans who had found an egg in the forest would grow old and die without ever knowing what their daughter had become.
Sol's chest ached.
Mama. Papa.
Would she ever see them again?
Would they recognize the creature she was becoming—this goddess of frost and moonlight, this queen of ancient beasts?
Or would they look at her with the same fear she'd seen in the eyes of every human who had ever discovered her ice?
She didn't know.
She might never know.
But she couldn't think about that now.
Not with two dragon kings pressed against her.
Not with her body still thrumming with power and want.
Not with the ripening burning through her veins.
I'll find a way back to them.Somehow. Someday.
But even as she made the promise, she felt how fragile it was. How small her human life seemed now, compared to the vastness of what stretched before her. The thought sent a shiver down her spine—and with it, the dream surged back. Not just the pleasure this time, but thepromiseof it.
Centuries of being held between them.
Centuries of their hands on her skin, their breath against her neck, their bodies pressed to hers.
Centuries ofthem inside her.
Sol bit her lip so hard she tasted copper.
"And when you are ready," Pyrran’s silver eyes gleamed with erotic knowing, "we will teach you how to swallow the moon."
Sol blinked. "Swallow the. . .what?"
The brothers exchanged a glance—one of those wordless communications that spoke of centuries spent together, of shared secrets and shared power.
"It is the highest achievement a dragon can attain," Korin explained, his voice reverent. "The ultimate expression of what we are."
"I don't understand."
Pyrran's fingers stilled in her hair. "You have power, little queen. Ice that flows through your veins like ancient rivers. But what you touched today—what you unleashed when you fell through that mountain—was only a fraction of what lies within you."
"A fraction?" Sol thought of the blizzard that had exploded from her throat. The frozen cathedral she'd created without even trying. The sheer, overwhelmingforceof it. "That was a fraction?"
"A drop in an ocean," Korin nodded. "A single snowflake in an eternal winter. Your power is vast, Sol. Vaster than you can imagine. But it is. . . sleeping. Coiled. Waiting to be awakened."
"To swallow the moon," Pyrran continued, "is to awaken that power completely. To take the celestial light into yourself and let it ignite every dormant corner of your soul. To transcend the boundaries between dragon and divine."
