The wet hiss came again.

  Then another. and another.

  Low and drawn out a chorus of serpentine breath echoing through the cavern walls.

  Imogen’s breath caught. From the far edges of the glowing chamber, shadows moved long, scaled shapes slithering into view. Serpents.

  Massive. Dozens of them, their armored bodies gleamed in the crystal light. Oil-slick and ridged, scales catching flashes of copper, obsidian, and bone-white as they twisted over the jagged stone. Eyes cold, glassy, inhuman, fixed on them with unblinking hunger. Their tongues flicked, tasting the air, sensing blood.

  Their tails coiled and lashed across the rocks like whips. A slow, deliberate circling.

  No sound but the hiss of breath and the scrape of scaled bodies closing in.

  Malachite planted herself between Imogen and the beasts, every muscle tensed, blood dripping from her cracked armor.

  “Stay behind me,” she growled.

  And the cavern held its breath

  Imogen gasped, stumbling back a step as more hissing shapes slithered into view. Her heart thundered and she looked around.

  “Mal…” she whispered, voice tight with panic. “There’s more than one, there’s so many.”

  Malachite’s sharp brown eyes flicked to her, scanning her face, reading the fear there. “Hide,” she rasped, her voice low but firm. Almost gentle. “Now, Imogen.”

  Imogen froze, her hands trembling.

  “I can’t leave you-”

  Malachite’s voice cracked like a whip, sharper now, steeled by command.

  “Go! Behind the rocks now!” Imogen flinched at the sudden shift, her eyes wide.

  Malachite didn’t take her eyes off the serpents, her broken body already shifting into a low defensive stance.

  “I’ll hold them,” she growled. “But I can’t do that if I’m worrying about you.”

  The hissing grew louder closer.

  Imogen hesitated only a moment longer then turned and ran, ducking behind a jagged outcrop of glowing stone just as the first serpent lunged.

  Malachite exhaled once slow and steady.

  Then she let go.

  Her half-shifted form surged. Stone cracked and thickened across her body, limbs reshaping, muscles stretching. Her horns curved outward, jagged and raw. Her legs bulged with layered armor, and her spine bristled with rocky ridges.

  Her human face vanished, overtaken by a rough, primal drake skull earthen, plated, ancient. Fangs gleamed from her jaw. Her eyes burned beneath her stone brow, glowing copper-gold.

  With a ground-shaking thud, her tail slammed against the cavern floor, rattling pebbles and dust in a deep tremor.

  Fully transformed, Malachite loomed a hulking, rock-plated drake. Some of her armor still cracked and bleeding, but her form massive and immovable. Her claws gouged into the stone, her jagged body a living barricade between Imogen and the serpents now circling like vultures.

  She lifted her head, inhaled deep and roared.

  The cavern shook with the sound of a deep, seismic bellow that echoed from wall to wall, making the glowing crystals flicker and hum. Even the serpents recoiled, pausing, their tongues flicking the air in hesitation.

  Behind the rocks, Imogen crouched, trembling, hands over her ears as the roar vibrated through her bones, tears streaking her cheeks.

  But through the terror… she felt it.

  Malachite’s strength. Her defiance. Her will to stand between her and death no matter what.

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  The serpents struck as one.

  From every tunnel, from behind stalagmites and crystal-spined shadows, they slithered forward a mass of scaled horror. Their bodies varied wildly in size: some no larger than wolves, others massive, thick as trees, their sinewy coils rippling with muscle each one gleamed under the cavern’s eerie light, their eyes glowing like molten coins.

  Their fangs were long, curved like sickles, dripping venom that hissed as it touched the stone.

  Malachite didn’t wait.

  She launched herself into the first wave. Her jagged, stone-plated body crashed through the front line, slamming one serpent into the wall hard enough to shatter bone. Her claws drove through scaled flesh, and her tail cracked out in a sweeping arc, flinging two smaller beasts into the crystalline ceiling.

  But they just kept coming.

  One enormous serpent nearly her size lunged from the side, its jaws opening wide enough to clamp around her shoulder. Its fangs found a crack in her plating, sinking deep. She howled, flinging it off with a twist of her thick neck, but its venom was already seeping in.

  Another serpent coiled around her back leg, dragging her down. Malachite thrashed, claws gouging the stone, finally slamming her full weight down onto it with a crunch. The impact sent tremors through the cavern but two more were already closing in, weaving around her sides.

  Behind the rocks, Imogen crouched low, her hands over her mouth, tears streaking her face. She couldn’t look away, couldn't stop watching as the woman who saved her fought like a living fortress.

  Malachite reared up again, her roar echoing like thunder. Her plated body glistened with blood and venom. The copper veins in her stone skin pulsed dimly beneath her wounds.

  Another serpent lunged from above and wrapped its coils around her midsection, tightening. Another rammed into her side. Her legs gave a lurch, her body wobbling as she tried to stay upright.

  Her lungs burned. Her veins ached with poison and still she fought.

  She slammed her clawed foot down, crushing the pale serpent’s head. Another lunged at her exposed side she turned with a snarl, her horns catching it mid-air and impaling it through the neck. The serpent twitched, blood spilling in rivulets across the stone.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  The largest of them emerged now easily rivaling her in size, its body dark green and ribbed with jagged spines. It didn’t hiss or lunge like the others. It studied her, slow and calculating, waiting for its moment.

  Malachite’s stance faltered.

  She could barely breathe.

  Cracks ran down her legs and sides. One eye was swollen shut from a glancing blow. Her tail dragged heavily behind her, the rocky plating chipped and bleeding.

  But she still stood between them and Imogen.

  She planted her feet. Lifted her head.

  And with blood in her mouth and fire in her heart, Malachite roared again a sound of pure fury and unbreakable will.

  If they wanted the queen, they’d have to go through her corpse.

  And she wasn’t ready to fall.

  Imogen watched from behind the jagged rocks, hands clamped over her mouth, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Mal…” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Please… hold on…”

  She clutched at her head, thoughts spiraling. These weren’t just snakes. They were monsters towering coils of muscle and scale, fangs longer than her arm, eyes glowing with cold hunger. The worst she’d ever faced was a garden snake nibbling her thyme.

  “Elanor…” she choked. “What did I get myself into?”

  Desperate, Imogen tried again to summon her magic, begging it to rise, to surge forward, to do something. But it refused. Dead weight. Asleep. Useless.

  Malachite’s jagged form was a blur of motion, bleeding and battered, her rocky plating shattered in places, her limbs trembling.

  Hold the line. Hold the line.

  But they just kept coming.

  A serpent nearly as large as she was coiled tight around her torso, squeezing with monstrous force. Another slammed into her flank, sending her staggering into the cavern wall with a thunderous crack. She roared in defiance, crushed one beneath her foot only for two more to swarm her.

  She dropped to one knee.

  Her claws scraped the stone, trembling. Her helm cracked down the center, blood dripping from her mouth. Her legs threatened to give out entirely.

  Still she rose again.

  Tail lashing wildly, eyes blazing, she locked onto the horde with a snarl that could shatter bone.

  “Come on,” Malachite rasped, her voice thick with blood and fire. “You’re not… getting her…”

  With a roar that split the heavens, a massive black shape dove through the opening above. Wind tore through the cavern as wings slammed downward.

  Darius.

  A shadow of fury obsidian scales gleaming, eyes lit with fire and rage.

  He hit the ground like a living storm, his dragon form radiating power. Horns sliced through stone. Wings crushed the cavern ceiling. His claws tore through serpents with brutal, unstoppable force each movement fueled by a fury only the mate bond could ignite.

  And then he shifted.

  In a burst of light and magic, Darius landed hard in his human form, his black armor gleaming, breath ragged as he shouted, voice echoing like thunder through the chaos: “Imogen!”

  Another blur followed him through the cavern mouth.

  Axel.

  Half-shifted. Claws gleaming. Eyes blazing. He hit the ground with a snarl and dove into the fray, blades flashing as he ripped through the writhing coils trying to regroup.

  Malachite sagged to the side, her huge rocky frame barely holding together armor cracked, bleeding from too many wounds. But as the shadow of her king landed before her, she let out a hoarse, breathless huff and gave the smallest, crookedest grin.

  “…’Bout time…” she rasped.