Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 161615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 539(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 539(@300wpm)
"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, overwhelming force of 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."
Sol's breath caught. "Divine?"
"We call ourselves gods," Korin said softly. "And we are, in our own way. Immortal. Powerful. Feared and worshipped by lesser beings. But even we have not achieved what you could achieve."
"Your ice is not merely ice," Pyrran said. "It is moonlight made solid. Starlight crystallized. The cold between worlds given form. When you swallow the moon—when you draw that celestial power fully into yourself—you will not simply be a dragon queen."
He leaned closer, his silver eyes blazing with an intensity that stole her breath. "You will be a goddess in truth. The embodiment of winter itself. Eternal frost given consciousness. You will be able to freeze time. To halt the stars in their courses. To bring endless night or endless cold to any who dare oppose you."
Sol stared at him. "That's. . .impossible."
"Nothing is impossible for what you are," Korin murmured. "You simply haven't learned to believe it yet."
"We will teach you," Pyrran promised. "Slowly. Carefully. We will unlock every chamber of power within you until you shine brighter than any moon in any sky."
Sol lay there, trying to process words that didn't fit in her mind.
Goddess.
Celestial power.
Swallowing the moon.
It was too much.
Too vast.
Too impossible.
And yet. . .
Her dragon heart stirred.
Yes, it whispered. This is what we are. This is what we've always been. The cold between stars. The silence before snowfall. The eternal winter waiting to be born.
"The moon," Sol tested the words. "I would. . .consume it?"
"Not the physical moon." Korin gave her a gentle smile. "The essence of it. The power it represents. Dragons have always been tied to celestial bodies—my brother and I draw our strength from sun and moon respectively. But you, little queen. . .you are something different. Something new."
Pyrran actually trembled next to her. "An ice dragon has not existed for millennia."
"Until now," Korin finished. "Until you."
Sol's mind reeled.
But even as she tried to grasp the enormity of what they were telling her, the dream crept back.
Insistent.
Relentless.
Korin's ridged dragon cock stretching her open.
Pyrran's cool thickness claiming her from behind.
Both of them thrusting in perfect unison.
Her body didn't care about moons or power or celestial transcendence. Her body only cared about them.
"We should let you rest." Pyrran ran his fingers through her hair. "The ripening takes time. Your body needs to recover from the first shift."
"Ripening?" The word snagged in her memory. The ancient voice in her dream had used it.
“Your ripening is here.”
"It is. . .a phase," Korin said carefully. "When a female dragon comes into her full power. Her body prepares itself for. . ."
Korin stopped and exchanged a glance with his brother.
Sol looked at him and then at Pyrran. "For what?"
Pyrran's smile was slow and wicked. "For her mates."
Heat flooded Sol's face.
The dream hadn't been random. It had been a preview. Her dragon self showing her what was coming. What her body was preparing for. What would happen when the ripening was complete and she was ready to. . .
"Not yet," Korin said gently, as if reading her spiraling thoughts. "The ripening takes time. Days. Perhaps weeks. We will not rush you."
"We have waited centuries," Pyrran added. "We can wait a little longer."
But the way he said it—the dark promise lurking beneath the patience—made Sol's core clench.
They're going to claim me. For real this time. Not in a dream, but here. Maybe even in this bed. With their hands and their mouths and their. . .love swords. . .
"Rest," Korin pulled the silk sheet up over her body, covering her nakedness with a tenderness that made her chest ache. "We will be here when you wake. We will always be here."
"Tomorrow, we begin your training," Pyrran snuggled closer to her. "Flying. Hunting. Hoarding. And when you are strong enough. . .swallowing the moon."
Sol nodded, not trusting her voice.
They settled against her—Korin's warmth at her left, Pyrran's cool presence at her right. Their arms draped across her, not possessive this time, but protective.