Cinderax’s eyes caught a shaft of sunlight as they drifted past her to Velinya, who rose from tending the Emberharts, her steps soundless as she departed the cavern.
“When my kind creates a scalebond,”he said, refocusing on her,“we offer our gift, and you choose whether to accept it. But if we try to force that power on the Unbound, we scorch the mind.”Steam rose from his claws as his talons curled in the sand.“Even if they were to hatch with our gifts, they would be beasts with power but no control. Such dragons nearly broke the world once, and my kind will not tempt that ruin again. Not even Skylash.”
The scales along his spine lifted and settled again.“All it takes is your spark. The hatchling inside will cling to the scalebond’s gift and become.”
They both watched Fenn wrestling in the sand with Vasharax for a moment before Cinderax murmured,“Your magic is more tempered than that of a dragon—you can stand in for the hatchling, your power becoming the first shape in the dark.”
Serenna trailed her fingers across the nearest shell, tracing where warmth pooled as though the dragon inside pressed closer to meet her palm. An unwelcome thought unfurled, how easily a single touch of lightning might reorder a future.
“So they don’t get a choice?”
“Do any of us?”Cinderax rumbled.“We do not choose the line that bore us. But what we become… That is wrought from how we wield the power we hold.”His inner eyelids swept over molten irises as they narrowed on the clutch.“And now is the time to shape them. Before hatching begins. Two are close—less than a sunrise away.”
Serenna’s throat tightened beneath the weight of steering a future that did not belong to her, yet she nodded.
Shifting on her knees, she settled deeper into the warm sand and drew a slow breath. Reaching inward, she coaxed the spark from her chest. Violet lightning gathered in her palm, arcing along her fingers. She extended her hand, steering her power gently to the shell’s surface.
The current leapt, veining across the egg before tunneling like roots burrowing into soil. A pulse stirred like a heartbeat—a faint flicker at first, then gathering strength.
From within, light bloomed. A muted shimmer swelled and flared bright before collapsing into darkness.
Serenna exhaled slowly as the echo of her spark hummed in her chest. Before she could reach for the next egg, Cinderax’s head cocked toward the cavern’s mouth.
“The one who scowls at every shadow approaches,”he murmured, amusement simmering at the edge of his voice.“For one who left fire behind, he always burns.”
Serenna knew who he meant before pressure gathered like a storm drawing breath. A cold draft followed, winding through the heated cavern as though frost prowled ahead of him.
With heavy footfalls, Lykor stalked into the nursery, the temperature dipping with every stride. His glare swept through the heat, snagging on Serenna where she knelt, then skimmed past Cinderax without a flicker of acknowledgment. But the sight of Fenn sprawled in the sand—flicking fireballs while Vasharax leapt after them with throaty chirps—pulled a curl of irritation across his lip.
Serenna ignored Lykor as his shadow fell over her, letting the remaining threads of lightning dissipate before rising to face him.
Armor creaked as Lykor folded his arms. “Jassyn’s been negotiating with prisoners for days, and you’re here playing lizard brood-mother?”
Serenna sniffed, brushing grit from her palms. “Forgive me,” she said, cooling her tone. “I didn’t realize my schedule required your approval. Shall I have Fenn send a dispatch the next time I set foot beyond the palace?”
“Jassyn asked for your presence,” Lykor clipped instead of answering, biting each word in half.
The retort Serenna had readied stalled on her tongue. “Why?”
“Because,” Lykor ground out, “he’s with Daeryn and the magus, sifting through the king’s forces we dragged from the Maw. Some might be salvageable to our cause. If they’re worth the trouble.” A pulse of frost crackled through the sand beneath his boots. “Most are like you—elven-blooded—and Jassyn wants you there.”
“And you thought storming in here and barking orders was the best delivery method?”
“You’ve wasted enough time in this cavern,” Lykor growled.
“I’m notwastinganything.”
Serenna held his stare, refusing to let hers stray toward Fenn—who was still tumbling with Vasharax in the sand, making their presencelooklike idle play.
“I’m fulfilling Skylash’s bargain,” she continued, “by shaping these Unbound hatchlings into Stormstrikes.”
Lykor straightened, interest narrowing to a knife’s point. He tipped his head, eyes flaring as he studied the eggs.
Cinderax chuffed low and Lykor’s jaw flexed before he spoke again. The bite in his voice dropped to something almost luring and Serenna heard the calculation behind it. “How do you do that?”
She flexed her fingers, letting a spark skitter to life along her knuckles. “Cinderax said our druid power can steer them toward an element.”
She flicked the static at Lykor, violet strands crackling through the air. He bared his fangs, scales surging over his forearms before frost sheathed the plates. The lightning struck, hissing across the ice before scattering.
