Chapter 7

SEVEN

T he transport pod materialized on a crystalline platform high in the mountains of Nova Aurora, its sleek surface still humming with inter-dimensional energy. Quinn gripped the armrests of her seat, knuckles white, as the pod’s door slid open with a soft hiss. The first breath of alien air hit her lungs—crisp, sharp, and tinged with an otherworldly sweetness she couldn’t quite place.

“Holy shit,” Lydia breathed beside her, pressing her face against the pod’s window. “Quinn, look at this place!”

Quinn was already looking, her analytical mind struggling to process the impossible vista before her. Twin suns dominated the sky—one a massive yellow orb, the other smaller and blood-orange, casting the world in surreal shadows and light.

Purple forests stretched across valleys far below, their crystalline leaves catching and refracting sunlight in rainbow patterns. A pink ocean shimmered in the distance, its waves tipped with bioluminescent foam that glowed even in daylight. Yellow mountains pierced the sky like ancient sentinels, their peaks disappearing into clouds tinged with orange and gold.

“Ladies…” Gerri Wilder’s voice rang out as she stepped gracefully from her own pod, looking completely unfazed by interdimensional travel. Her silver-white bob gleamed in the alien sunlight as she adjusted her designer jacket. “Welcome to Nova Aurora. Quite the view, isn’t it?”

“That’s one way to put it,” Quinn muttered, wrapping her arms around herself as a bitter wind cut through her jacket—the same one that had kept her warm during countless glacier expeditions on Earth. Here, it might as well have been tissue paper.

Lydia bounced on her toes, already pulling out her phone to take pictures. “Quinn, look at those rock formations. Are those natural crystals? And what’s causing that bioluminescence in the ocean? Oh my god, is that some kind of flying creature?”

She pointed to where a serpentine shape wound through the clouds, its scales catching the sunlight like polished metal. Quinn squinted, her scientific skepticism warring with the evidence of her own eyes.

“Those would be the younger dragons,” Gerri said casually as if discussing local birds. “Speaking of which...” She glanced at her watch, which somehow seemed to be working perfectly despite being on an alien planet. “His Majesty should be arriving any moment.”

A tall, willowy female with silvery skin materialized beside them. “Your comfort is our priority,” she said, holding out what appeared to be simple cloaks. “Please, accept these welcoming gifts.”

Quinn took the offered garment, expecting thick fabric. Instead, it felt impossibly light in her hands, almost weightless. The moment she draped it over her shoulders, the material shifted, conforming to her body like a second skin. Warmth bloomed across her back, spreading down her arms and chest.

“What the—” She jumped, startled by the sensation.

“Self-heating smart fabric,” Lydia squealed, already twirling in her own cloak. “The molecular structure must respond to body temperature. Quinn, this is amazing.”

“Why doesn’t Earth have these?” Quinn wondered aloud, running her fingers over the material that somehow felt both solid and fluid at once.

“Because Earth is still figuring out how to make phones that don’t crack when you drop them,” Gerri quipped, checking her reflection in a nearby crystal formation. “Now, dears, remember what we discussed. This isn’t just any diplomatic mission—this is about finding you the perfect match, Quinn.”

Quinn rolled her eyes. “I’m here to study unprecedented geological phenomena, Gerri. Not to date.”

“Can’t you do both?” Lydia wiggled her eyebrows. “I mean, a dragon shifter king? That’s like a geology-studying, fire-breathing, super-hot?—”

“Lyd,” Quinn cut her off with a warning look.

A sound like distant thunder rolled across the platform, and the very air seemed to vibrate with power. A massive shadow passed overhead, and her breath caught in her throat as she looked up.

A dragon, elegant and powerful, circled the platform. Its scales shimmered like freshly fallen snow with undertones of silver and ice blue that caught the twin suns’ light. The creature was easily the size of a small passenger plane, with wings that seemed to span half the landing platform. As it descended, the air crackled with ancient magic.

The dragon landed with surprising grace, and Quinn found herself reaching for her seismometer out of habit—surely a creature that size would trigger some readings. But before she could check, the air shimmered around the dragon, and in its place stood a man.