Chapter 29 #2
“I wanted to shift in privacy. I thought your followers would revel in the sight of your power if they saw my beast sitting dutifully at your side.” I stare up at her with a blank expression smeared across my face.
I don’t know that I’ve ever said the words “revel” and “dutifully” out loud. Goddess, who the fuck am I right now?
“I knew you were the reward I deserved. Great rewards from our Goddess cost great sacrifice. The goddess taught me that last night. And I have been rewarded.” Her inky orbs shine in the intensity of the moonlight, and in the setting of this eerie moment, I don’t know if she’s full of hellish shit or if the goddess truly does speak to this woman.
Or at least, that’s what she believes.
“You are correct, my queen,” I say with an alarming smile.
Fuck, I’m as bad as she is.
Except I’m sane.
I think . . .
“Shift, Cersia. Shift and show these followers what our queendom’s magnitude looks like.” Her hands are clasped around mine, and I’m very aware of the two men standing on either side of us.
They’re on defense. Subtle, subtle defense.
As am I.
Her thin fingers feel like shackles around my skin as her hold on me tenses. I nod. Her smile widens.
“Step back, my queen,” I say on a smooth breath of a promise.
Scary excitement beams in her gaze. She releases me slowly. She takes one step after another, never turning away from my image as she backs up. Zilo watches her closely, and he moves aside for her to put space between us. But he himself doesn’t leave my side.
“Cersia.” Roman says my name like a whispering warning bell.
He may as well have roared, “Don’t fucking be stupid,” at the back of my head.
I’d never.
Unless . . . unless I would.
A swarm of emotions flitter through me. Anxiety. Rage. Anger. Fear. It’s all there, and my beast absorbs it all. I feel her inside me like a second heartbeat. She’s a pulse of an existence. A beautiful, magical creature.
I need her now more than ever.
She purrs to life without hesitation. It’s like now that we’ve met, our bond is stronger than ever. She is me, and I am her. And this cunt of a queen has threatened us both.
And our loved ones.
Her sweet purr turns to a growl. My chest hums. My bones vibrate. My body prepares for the pain that rips from the inside out that I know will soon be coming. And I fucking want it.
The tear of flesh is a quick lashing. The breaking of bones is like nothing. It’s a kiss of agony that passes so quickly, it doesn’t even register in my mind as my flesh morphs into scales and heat and fire and fury.
The ground distances itself as I’m lifted higher and higher. Wings tear from my spine, and I enjoy—no, I revel in the feel of total power.
Heat billows from my snout, and the blurring sight of my surroundings is hard to take into focus, but I hear her.
It’s a gasp of pleased pleasure.
It’s a threat.
A threat of what’s to come.
And I won’t wait for those days to beat me down.
The smoke from my throat wafts out as I tilt my head slowly down at the dark image below me. A small palm strokes along my foot.
It—fuck, that tickles. I shake him off, and he tumbles away from me before I spot Roman sitting in the dirt on his ass.
Oops. I’d say sorry, but how dare he tickle a monstrous beast like myself!
Snorting fire brews at the back of my throat, and I lower my head down, down, down and finally, his pretty features come into focus.
I blink at him, and he shakes his head slowly at me.
Once more saying, “Don’t fucking be stupid,” without really saying it.
My teeth bare to him. His dark eyebrows lift high, and it’s almost laughable how puny my little hellhound looks right now. To think I used to have to look up at him like his height was impressive or something.
My jaws open wide, and ever so gently, I snip up one of his dirty boots and throw the little man up in the air. A small grunt is heard as he lands with a thud somewhere on my back.
He’s fucking adorable.
So cute.
“Fuckin’ crazy woman,” he mutters.
So cute.
But serious business is to be had in this moment.
The queen’s pleased squeal is no longer sounding through the night air, and I’m very aware of how little time I have to steal up the other little pup down below, take out the castle wall just behind me, and snatch up the last sweet little hound before flying our asses out of here and heading for the Upper Realm.
“Cersia, listen to me,” Roman whispers against my neck, tickling the scales there with the heat of his breath.
Damn, why are dragons so ticklish? I don’t recall that being an issue in any of the folklore I’ve heard about my kind .
. . “Cersia, we can’t go back to your pack.
They’d never accept you as one of their own, and Creatchin will expect you to hide there. She’s not a fool, and you know it!”
I blink slowly at that. It was a feeble plan, but it was something. It was a promising thought to think about. It was—it was wishful thinking.
My breathing comes in slow heaps.
“Cersia, my pet,” Creatchin calls out to me gently. “Cersia, come with me.” I feel the ends of her dress sweep past my foot, and I’m aware of her beckoning me back to the crowd of people I hear whispering behind us.
I won’t do it. I won’t be her war beast.
With Roman’s hands settled against my back, my wings beat very slowly around him.
I push them gently through the breeze. It’s a casual, leisurely liftoff that barely hovers my talons above the ground at first. Little by little, I lift higher.
I take flight like a delicate butterfly.
Until I turn and glare down at the dark smudge of a witch I know is about to present me to her people.
I’m her pet. Her prize.
Her fire fucking breathing dragon.
The heat in my throat blooms out, igniting the night in colors of yellow and white.
Screams and growls shift through the sea of an audience down below.
The glow of the embers flash across Vanitee’s pale face.
It sparkles in Nyra’s golden eyes. The roar I cast out to them isn’t one of submission.
It rolls over the hills of this kingdom and flies out to the stars beyond in gold, fiery embers.
Just seconds ago, I wanted nothing more than to do the same. I truly thought flying away would solve all our problems. It won’t.
All running away would do is buy us time.
And now is the perfect time.
Perfect indeed.
With a shove of my wings, I soar down, head lowered, diving swiftly toward my target in her fine ebony gown. The wind whips. Water burns my eyes. She’s all I see. And soon, she’ll just be a taste of vengeance at the back of my throat.
The inches that separate her from me are filled with black cloth within a split second as she twirls that gown like a cape flowing in the wind. And her hands rear up at the very last moment. And inky dark magic burst from her fingertips.
The spark of it stings my scales, heating my already-fiery body into an inferno of pain that scuttles all through me. My feet, my wings, my talons all fight at once to fling myself safely away from the scratching torture of that mystical spark.
“Cersia.” My name is a spoken claim upon my soul. There’s no anger in her tone, but there’s most definitely power. “Forgiveness is not offered twice. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, and you’re sure to die a most gruesome death at the hands of the Night Witch.”
Roman’s palm pushes reassuringly back and forth along my throat.
He should leave. Before I get him hurt.
“Cersia,” The queen warns.
Her hands lift idly.
My spine stiffens as my wings arch out around me.
“I will not warn you again.” Her blur of a body shifts into a defensive stance.
And my fire barely crosses my sharp, pointed teeth when that inkwell of power shines from her fingertips.
But someone else is faster than all of us.
A splash of pale fur washes over my vision as a creature leaps past me and slams into the slender figure of the most powerful woman in all of Hell’s kingdom.
Gleaming golden eyes and thick tawny fur is all I see, but I sense her as she snaps vicious canines down into the spindly throat of our queen.
Nyra.
There’s a diligent way her body moves as she shakes her back and forth in her jaws like the queen of hell is her favorite little chew toy that’s been left out for this feral beast to frolic around with.
Black magic bursts around the two of them.
A high, screaming whine pierces the air.
I can’t see anything. I lunge forward but I’m not as quick.
Three hulking masses appear on all side of her, and the warmth that was settled against my back is gone as I soon realize Roman as well as Zilo and Avian are now rushing toward my sister.
The pale flailing hands and long whipping locks of the queen are the only indication I have of what’s going on down below.
Three of the darkest wolves of Hell have her sprawled out between them, as they growl and snap and tear at her limbs.
Vanitee stands like a reaper in the shadows. Glittering black wings halo her features, her eyes alight with fire. Long arms fold over her chest. She doesn’t come to her mother’s aide.
My gaze widens, and the haze fades just slightly. My vision sharpens into nearly crisp sight of three enormous, fiery dogs suspending a tiny woman between them, preparing to nearly split her frail body at the center.
Until magic bursts at her seams. It shockwaves out with jarring force. The hellhounds are thrown with thudding impact. It blinds me with dirt and debris until I no longer see my once-clear surroundings.
I close my eyes hard, and swoop down with quick lashing teeth. Blood sprays across my tongue as my teeth drag over a slender body. Uncertainty flashes through my mind for a single second.
Then I swallow hard.