A Luna for the Lycan King
Slow, sinuous, huge.
Lyle stiffened, eyes wide, and Squall seemed restless, shifting his weight side to side. A shadow slid by above us … no, not above, all around, enveloping the bubble in cold. The lights revealed a mass of scales, blue on blue, each the size of a dinner plate, glinting with a strange inner fire. It moved with the lazy confidence of a god.
Squall’s jaw cracked. He pressed both hands to the bubble, nose to the magic, eyes so wide I could see the whites all the way around.
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