Glen

“She started to pull away, but he held on to her gently. “Wait,” he said. “I’ve been experimenting. This kind shouldn’t burn you.” Cricket went still, realizing again how much she trusted him. The gold thread reached for her like a vine growing too fast; it wound around her claws and his and spiraled up toward her shoulder. Everywhere the flamesilk touched her scales, warmth sank in, quietly spreading into her bones. “Oh, wow,” she said softly. “It’s like magic, Blue.” “Right?” he said. “I thought it would be much scarier. But I kind of love my flamesilk … is that weird?”
― Tui T. Sutherland, The Hive Queen