Dawlya’s Dragon
Her dragon form rippled, compressed, and in a flash of light, the Queen stood before them in ceremonial white and red, smiling sweetly.
“You must be Avin’s team,” she said, voice warm.
Kael looked two seconds from fainting.
A deeper shadow passed overhead. King Trace landed beside her in obsidian and blue scales massive, regal, silent. He did not shift. He merely lowered his head and inspected the team with eyes like molten amber.
“Relax,” Avi murmured to her squad. “He’s judging, not hunting.”
“That’s not comforting,” Joren rasped.
Behind the kings and queens, smaller dragons touched down Kyle, the queen’s sentinel in bright sapphire, little Connor tumbling across the grass in baby-dragon f
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