Chapter 8 The mountain shuddered again, deeper this time, as if the stone itself had drawn a sharp breath. I clutched the edge of the cave opening, silk slipping from one shoulder, my pulse loud in my ears. Torches flickered far below like scattered embers climbing the slope. Shouts rose on the cold wind—sharp commands, the clink of armor, the steady tramp of boots. My brother’s voice cut through it all, steady and familiar, calling orders to the men who had grown up with me. Vaelor stood a few paces ahead, still fully in his humanoid shape, tall and imposing. Golden scales shimmered faintly along the broad line of his shoulders and down his forearms. His black horns caught the distant firelight. His tail moved in slow, restless arcs behind him, the only sign that the calm in his posture was hard-won. He did not turn when he spoke. “Go back inside, Sera. Lock the wards behind you.” I took one step forward instead. The cool night air brushed my bare arms and made my heavy breasts
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