and down her back. All at once, the buzzing and roaring became a deafening boom that shook the whole cavern and gave the air a sharp, crisp sting.
Apart from the ringing in Leyloni’s ears and her thumping heart, all was impossibly quiet. Serek’s little hands grabbed, pushed, and pinched at her skin and clothing, but she barely felt the pain—just as she barely heard him crying. Leyloni was numb, trembling, breathless. She could not have released her hold on Serek in those moments if she’d wanted to.
If I do not look, it will not be real. Arysteon will be lying on the floor just as before, content and relaxing after a good meal.
She drew in and released several shaky breaths, willing her thought to be true. They could not have been so wrong about the old stories; it was not possible. Why would the legends be so misleading?
As the ringing in her ears finally faded, all she could hear was the rain falling outside and Serek crying.
I am not a coward. Arysteon deserves better than me hiding.
Leyloni forced her eyes open and straightened, rising on her knees. After another breath—this one far steadier than the last few—she twisted to look behind her.
A thick cloud of smoke hung in the air at the cavern’s entrance, blocking everything from view but a bit of dangling vegetation, falling water, and the forest canopy at the uppermost edge of the entryway. Gradually, the sound of Leyloni’s pounding heart rose to again claim prominence above all else.
Steeling herself, she stood up, lifting Serek along with her and holding him against her chest. The smoke was dissipating, but it was doing so slowly. Tendrils of it swirled away like misty, ghostly limbs reaching out in silent desperation.
“Arysteon?” Leyloni’s voice was raw, weak, broken.
When no answer came but the continued thumping of her own heart, the ice in Leyloni’s chest spread a little farther and grew even colder.
Oh, Mother Eurynome, what if I killed him?
But that…that couldn’t be right because, somehow, she felt Arysteon. She felt him through an invisible tether that was beckoning her closer to him.
Swallowing thickly, Leyloni set Serek down, never removing her eyes from the cave opening.
She straightened and took a few tentative steps forward. “Arysteon?”
A sound emerged from the smoke cloud—a low grunt just on the border of being a groan. But it lacked the usual power of Arysteon’s sounds, the smallest of which always seemed to produce faint vibrations.
Something scraped on the floor, like someone taking a step with a dragging foot. Leyloni pressed forward, heartened by the sounds but no less uncertain. She had no idea what she would find. No idea what had happened.
The smoke curled and flowed, spreading as though there were movement within. A figure took shape within the gloom, dark, tall, and shaped like a man.
Leyloni stilled.
The figure moved toward her with stumbling, shuffling steps, swaying as though drunk or ill. A hand shot out to press against the cavern wall—a clawed hand covered in blue-green scales. That hand flexed, and Arysteon drew himself fully out of the smoke.
Her heart, which was racing faster than the fluttering of a butterfly’s wings, skipped a beat.
Leyloni’s eyes raked over him repeatedly, absorbing only little bits of detail with each pass—her mind seemed unable to piece it all together. Seeing a dragon for the first time had been astounding. This…this was somehow even more so.
Though his shape was undoubtedly that of a human, he was taller and broader of shoulder than anyone she’d ever seen, and his muscles were well-defined despite him being covered in scales. Those scales were larger and thicker on his elbows, shoulders, and chest. The latter of those were paler and tapered as they led down his abdomen to his pelvis, where instead of a cock was a vertical slit. His large hands had long, dexterous fingers. The black claws at their tips were far smaller than those he’d possessed in his dragon form but looked no less wicked.
His head was bowed, and long, straight hair—blue hair—hung over his face, blocking it from her view. But it did not hide his pointed ears or the double sets of long back horns sweeping back from his temple, the larger pair positioned above the shorter.
He leaned more heavily on the wall, bracing his forearm against it, and his tail swung to the side, making the wispy smoke curl. That tail was exactly as it had been in his dragon form, complete with the black, bony spikes along