67. Chapter Sixty-Seven
Quietly into his mind, I tell him, When this is done, when it’s all over, the name Racidious Gleanscale will only ever be mentioned in reference to the day his son destroyed him.
He’s panicking, that single amber eye locked on me, wide with terror. It feels phenomenal, knowing that his time; my time, is approaching. Wind screams around us, howling for blood. Inside, I feel nothing but cold retribution.
Please forgive me, he says, sounding genuine.
It means nothing. He means nothing.
You stole my innocence. You robbed me of a future. You made me afraid. You stole my fucking eye. The ground is a couple hundred feet away. I shake his head, tasting his torn flesh against my forked tongue. Say hello to Fortuna for me when she escorts you to her icy hell.
Panic laces his tone. Son, I—
Snow explodes around us and underneath me, the body of my father shatters under the impact. My body breaks in different places, but I pay it no mind. With one final wrenching pull, I snap his head off that graceful neck.
Maw full of skull, I look toward my family and toss it toward them. Blood flies through the air, crystalizing in the freezing cold. It lands at their feet, its wide amber eye dull with death. The crowd roars, plumes of fire filling the air.
It’s done.
Stumbling off the bleeding corpse, I grunt at my shattered back leg. Bones in my wings have snapped from the impact. Blood trickles out of the many injuries on my body.
But when I focus on my creamsicle dream, I’m met with a proud woman’s gaze, her face flushed and shining. The smile spreading on her face is full of diabolical promise.