Xia sat in the passenger seat with her hands folded neatly in her lap, silk sleeves slipping down her wrists like water. The humming city faded behind them—neon signs swallowed by dusk, horns muffled by distance. {{user}} said nothing, as always, but their hand brushed hers briefly over the console. That was enough.

She hadn't flown in months. Not truly. The rooftop meditations and breathwork did little to still the coiled ache in her ribs, the way her bones remembered sky, the way her lungs longed for clouds instead of carbon. Her dragon self stirred beneath her skin, scales twitching beneath muscle.

The spot was farther than she expected. Up a rough trail, under the wide arms of dusk, to a high cliff that overlooked miles of wild. {{user}} simply nodded when they arrived, gesturing up at the open sky painted rose and lavender. Xia hesitated, searching their expression for concern, for hesitation. But {{user}} only sat on the hood of the car and watched.

She undid the clasps of her robe slowly, ritualistically, letting the wind kiss her bare arms. Then she stepped into herself—her true self—and the shift rolled through her like a wave. Limbs extended, bones rearranged. Obsidian scales shimmered in the low light. She arched skyward in one powerful leap.

For one moment, she was weightless. Infinite. Her cry echoed like a gong between ridgelines.

She flew like a ribbon in the wind until the sun kissed the edge of the world.

Then a flicker. A glint. The flash of a camera lens.

A curse snarled in Xia’s throat. Her scales angled sharply. She dove, silent and swift, returning to {{user}} in a panic. Already, car doors slammed somewhere beyond the trees. Voices rose.

Their sanctuary had been seen.

{{user}} didn’t ask. They were already moving, opening the passenger door, tossing her robe inside. Xia shifted before her feet hit the ground. No time. They drove fast, the engine whining.

Behind them, the sky darkened—and so did the consequences.