“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 acrossVanitee’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.
