Peril was, surprisingly, a decent dragonet, though Luniarnai had learned the hard way to keep a safe distance—especially when Peril's fiery scales would flicker and crackle with every twitch of her tail. It was impossible not to notice the warmth radiating from her, like a miniature sun bundled into a dragon-shaped package. Luniarnai often found herself fascinated by the way Peril's scales shimmered and shifted, glowing like embers in a dim room. A part of her—one that had always been drawn to the comfort of warmth—longed to reach out and touch them, but Peril would always hiss, her lips curling back from her sharp teeth. "Touch me, and you'll be toast," she'd growl. "Literally."

Luniarnai would roll her eyes and give a laugh, but she never pushed it. In the end, she figured it was probably best not to test a dragon whose scales were hotter than an active volcano.

It was during one of her peaceful reading sessions, nestled with a book she'd picked up from the SkyWing stronghold, that Peril barged in, looking as though she had just taken a direct hit from a battle. Blood dripped from a fresh gash on her head, staining the edges of her orange scales a darker, more sinister shade.

Luniarnai set the book aside with a flick of her tail, her concern flaring as she moved toward the injured dragonet. Her blue eyes, still so out of place in the otherwise orange-and-yellow world, were filled with quiet worry. "Peril, what happened?" she asked, voice gentle but edged with the obvious unease that had begun to flood her chest.

Peril shrugged nonchalantly, the motion sending a few stray droplets of blood splashing across the floor. "Nothing," she muttered, dropping onto her black rock bed with a huff of frustration. "Just got into a fight with an IceWing who thought it could cut me."

Luniarnai's heart stilled at the mention of her old tribe. The sharp memory of icy winds, cold faces, and the distant feeling of being out of place returned in a rush. Her tail twitched involuntarily, drawing closer to her foretalons, and she struggled to hide the tightness in her chest. "Really? That's unfortunate," she said softly, her voice betraying a hint of something deeper—a mix of sadness, anger, and perhaps a touch of bitterness. It was hard not to feel a pull toward her former kin, even if they hadn't exactly shown her kindness when she'd left.

Peril glanced at her, the intensity of her own fiery gaze cooling for a moment. "Yeah, well, IceWings think they're all tough with their cold breath and icy hearts," she said with a snort, flicking a bit of blood from her brow. "But they don't know how to deal with a dragon who actually burns. Their loss."

Luniarnai managed a small smile, relieved that Peril didn't seem to mind the injury much, though the bleeding didn't look promising. "You always have such an interesting way of looking at things," Luniarnai teased, a wisp of humor sneaking into her voice despite the situation. "Maybe that's why the IceWings can't handle you."

Peril snorted again, and for a second, Luniarnai could have sworn she saw a hint of pride in the younger dragon's expression. "Maybe," Peril said, rolling over onto her side. "Maybe I'm just too hot for them to handle." She grinned, exposing a sharp row of teeth.

Luniarnai chuckled softly, leaning down to fetch a cloth to help with the blood. "That might be the understatement of the century," she said, gently pressing the cloth to Peril's wound.

As she worked, Luniarnai couldn't help but feel a strange sense of camaraderie between them. In this place, with Peril's blazing temper and her own hidden grief, they both found comfort in the fire and the cold. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn't so different after all.

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

Luniarnai was curled up on her bed, eyes half-closed as the gentle hum of the stronghold filled the air. Her moonstone necklace, which had kept her RainWing appearance intact, gleamed softly in the dim light. She had grown accustomed to the cool, familiar weight of it around her neck, a quiet reminder of the life she had left behind—the peaceful rainforest, the ties she had severed, and the identity she had adopted in the face of all that had transpired.

But the tranquility of the moment shattered when Garnet burst through the door, looking battered, worn, and far more disheveled than she had ever seen him. His scales were dull, and his usual sharp smirk was replaced with something darker—a glint in his eyes that sent a cold shiver down her spine.

"Garnet, what—" Luniarnai began, but she was cut off when Garnet moved with surprising speed. Before she could react, he grabbed her moonstone necklace with a brutal yank, pulling it from her neck.

"No! Don't—" Luniarnai's voice rose in a shriek of panic, but it was too late. She felt the warmth of the necklace slip from her grasp, and the enchantment she had relied on so heavily vanished in an instant.

A deep, violent sensation swept through her, and she gasped as her scales shifted beneath her. The soothing colors of her RainWing form faded like a distant dream, replaced by the stark whiteness of her IceWing heritage. Her horns, once delicate and curved like crescent moons, now grew into sharp, jagged spikes that wrapped around her neck and down her back. Her claws twisted, becoming jagged and fierce, not the elegant curves of a RainWing but something far more dangerous, far colder.

Her breath caught in her throat as she looked at her reflection in the polished stone. Her once soothing blue eyes were now cold, icy, and unfamiliar, reflecting the true form of the dragon she had long hidden from the world. Panic surged within her chest, and she scrambled to steady herself, her claws scraping against the stone floor in distress.

"What have you done?" she gasped, her voice trembling as she turned to Garnet, who stood there with a cruel grin on his face. The glow of his eyes had a glazed look, as though he had just awoken from some strange trance. Holding the moonstone necklace in his claws, he backed away slowly, his malicious grin widening.

"You're a traitor, I see," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "An IceWing rogue—Queen Diamond mentioned you to her daughter, Queen Glacier. That queen has been looking for you... Princess Luniarnai of the IceWings."

Luniarnai's heart dropped like a stone. Princess? Her mind reeled as the weight of the revelation crashed over her. She had spent so long running from her past, from the IceWings, from the royal blood she'd once been forced to carry, that she had forgotten the significance of it all. Forgotten what it meant to truly be an IceWing.

Now, with the mask of the RainWing ripped away, she was no longer an outsider. She wasn't just Luniarnai the wanderer. She was Princess Luniarnai—the daughter of a queen, the heir to a throne she had never wanted.

"Queen Glacier," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper, the name feeling as cold as the IceWings themselves. She's been looking for me.

Garnet's laughter echoed around the room, dark and humorless. "Oh, don't worry," he said, his voice mocking. "You'll be reunited with your family soon enough. How exciting, hm? I'm sure they'll be thrilled to see the prodigal princess return."

Luniarnai took a step back, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear, anger, and disbelief. This wasn't supposed to happen. Her eyes narrowed as she glared at Garnet, a flicker of the RainWing determination still burning in her chest despite the transformation. I wasn't supposed to be found. Not like this.

The true weight of her situation began to settle over her like the chill of an impending storm. She wasn't just some random dragon now—she was wanted. Her past had caught up with her, and the IceWings would stop at nothing to reclaim what was "rightfully" theirs.

And Garnet... Garnet had just sealed her fate.