(What is this dragon saying? No, wait—his condition… It's far too similar to what happened back in the cave… oh God.)
Kael Valier's breath snagged in his throat as he stared into the blazing violet eyes fixed on him. Those eyes belonged to Valkar—the dragon, the beast, the man whose presence seemed to ignite the air around him.
There was madness there. Not the wild kind of delirium, but something deeper, darker, molten—like the moment right before a mountain erupts. The sheer force of it pressed on Kael's chest, squeezing his ribs until his lungs felt as though they might collapse.
A tremor ran through him, cold and hot at once. Fear was natural—who wouldn't be afraid, standing before a dragon poised on the razor's edge of sanity? But fear wasn't the only thing churning inside him. There was also an aching awareness, a thrum of power, of danger, of… possession.
