The cavern was deathly silent, save for the faint dripping of water echoing from unseen cracks in the stone above. The air was damp, heavy with the metallic tang of blood that lingered from the battle earlier, and with the faint scorched scent of dragonfire clinging stubbornly to the rock walls. Cold seeped into Kael's body through his thin clothes, biting through skin and marrow alike, but the chill of the cavern floor was nothing compared to the chill radiating from the figure that loomed before him.
The majestic dragon—no, the man—stood tall, every line of his body exuding dominance, every breath seeming to press down on Kael with the weight of a mountain. The glow of moonlight filtered through a jagged crack in the cavern roof, painting his figure in silver-blue, turning his skin into marble and his eyes into shards of frozen flame.
And then he spoke.
