Page 326 of Awakened

At Soren’s whispered curse, she smiles and steps aside as something silver rises into view.

At first, all I see is the slender, delicate curve of the head covered in white, shimmering scales that nearly blend in with the light still shining from below.

It shifts, and a sapphire blue eye scans its surroundings.

Caelan lets out a strangled sound, and the creature’s head snaps toward him, one impossibly blue eye narrowing on him with an intelligence no animal should possess.

It studies him for a long, breathless moment, and none of us dares breathe too loudly.

Then it turns back to Idril and blinks slowly.

“Shay’dar, Vharax.” She drops her arm to her side, and her fingers fall open as though in invitation.

A sharply curved talon appears as the creature extends its arm and hooks it over the edge. Its claws sink into the Earth, tearing at the grass and dirt. Pebbles shake loose and scatter, falling into the cavern as a second talon appears beside the first.

The creature pulls itself up.

My blood freezes in my veins, and though I know the creature can be no larger than a German Shepard, every instinct screams at me to take note.

Because attached to claws designed to rip and tear and demolish are sinuous limbs packed with enough muscle to lift half its weight. And folded tightly against its body⁠—

Wings.

Gods almighty, those are wings.

They’re easy to see as the creature pulls itself up and over the ledge, silver scales gleaming like diamonds as its body emerges from the darkness. For a moment, I think it will never end. Until a long, sweeping tail appears, swiping along the grass and sending a shower of debris pluming into the air behind it.

Its wings shift as it climbs, opening just enough to reveal brilliant blue veining the color of its irises, threaded through the nearly translucent membrane.

There’s one word for what I’m seeing.

Dragon.

Even though it’s right in front of me, a part of me wants nothing more than to deny reality. Dragons aren’t real. They don’t exist. They’re myths. Legends. And myths don’t climb from giant holes in the ground. They don’t turn reptilian eyes on Omegas and cock their heads attached to sinuous necks as if to ask, ‘Well? Which one are we lighting on fire first?’

This one does.

Caelan, Soren and Vae tense around me, but Idril doesn’t show the slightest sign of fear. She’s relaxed. Confident. She waits patiently as the dragon crosses the grass, body gliding with the same abnormal grace Idril now seems to possess.

When it reaches her side, Idril exhales.

And lifts her head.

One by one, the Omega we tried so hard to break meets our eyes. Soren and Caelan are first, and while there’s no malice in her gaze, there’s no softness, either.

This is a message—a revelation.

It’s almost as though she’s taken ownership of something that’s been inside her all along and is announcing it to the world. Dirty, exhausted, covered in bruises, and with a myth come to life at her side.

That part of me that feels like it’s finally woken up after far too long sees the female standing strong, proud, and whole… and it wants nothing more than to give itself to her completely.

Idril’s gaze moves to Vae, and the challenge in her eyes hardens. I can feel my brother’s awe through our Pack Bond. It’s wide open and bursting at the seams. His limbs tense and his hands curl into fists, and I get the sense he’d get on his knees and beg for her forgiveness if he thought it might make a difference.

But he’s too slow to decide how to react; Idril’s attention moves from Vaelenor to me.

I expect her eyes to harden even further. I expect to see disgust and dislike staring back at me.

Instead, a brief flicker of something that might be disappointment crosses her face before she lifts her chin imperceptibly, somehow managing to stare down her nose at me despite our height difference.