In a last ditch effort, I seek out my dragon. I search everything within me for the only thing that might save me now. It only takes a few seconds to know the suppressors the tainted sorcai have been dosing me with are too strong. I haven’t felt my other side in…I don’t even know how long. And even if by some miracle, I could sense my other half, could tap into that power, some other cruel twist of fate already has it under lock and key.
It’s all thanks to a curse that helped kill my people, my family, and now, it seems, will ultimately kill me too.
I was forced to watch in silent horror as magic stole my kith’s ability to transform into their dragons. Watched as my kindred were slaughtered, one by one, like helpless fawns instead of the fearsome, mighty dragons they were. I wish I could crawl back into my father’s armoire, like I did that night so many years ago, and hide from what’s happening to me now, but it won’t save me like it saved me then. Cowardice has a shelf life.
Frustrated and running out of time, I push my fingers through my hair only for them to get stuck in the mats and tangles that dominate the flame-colored locks. I can only imagine the state I’m in now. I’ve lost weight and muscle. My pale complexion is pallid at best, and my jade green eyes are probably nothing more than bloodshot pools of desperation.
Crisp night air steals all the remaining warmth from my limbs. I rub my arms, ignoring the neat lines of scars I now feel there. I’m dirty. The black tank top and shorts I was given weeks ago are creased and wrinkled with dirt, dried sweat, and blood. I wouldn’t be surprised if the blood brokers are tracking me by foul smell alone.
“Shit!” I hiss as the voices in the distance grow louder and more animated. They sound like hounds that just scented prey.
I take in the expanse of mountains in the distance and then look up at the sky as though the man in the moon is going to reach down and pluck me from this nightmare. But there’s no saving me from this. I realize that now. I thought if I could get away, if I could just run, that somehow it would all be okay.
Stupid.
I was so bloody stupid.
Pulling in a deep biting breath, I close my eyes and try to calm my racing thoughts. I give myself a second, a moment to mourn the hope that’s carried me through the last 117 days. Faces and memories swarm me, unbidden…my sister…my Flight.
Are they still looking for me, or did they give up?
Will they ever know what happened to me and Ren?
A fist tightens around my heart as I think about all the things I thought I’d do before I died. I thought I’d find a way to break the curse. That I would lead the charge for retribution and give what’s left of my kind a life out of the shadows, one filled with more than suffering and sorrow. It’ll be up to the others now.
A sob lodges in my throat at the realization of everything I’ll lose, everything I’ll miss out on.
Before my emotions can force me to rethink what I’m about to do, I shove them away, burying them so deep it’s like they were never there to begin with. Hardening my resolve, I exhale the trepidation tightening my lungs and pull in a bitter fortifying breath.
I won’t let them corner and catch me again.
I won’t let them use me to get to the others.
With a determined shake of my head and hardening of my soul, I back up twenty paces and then I start to run again. I pump my arms and my legs as hard as I can. Silent, hot tears spill from my eyes, stinging my cold cheeks. The rocky edge of the cliff speeds closer, but I ignore the panic that surges through me and begs me to stop.
“I’m sorry, Enslee,” I whisper as the ground disappears from under me and I leap away from the cliff’s edge.
Dread congeals in my veins, but with it comes an unexpected rush of release. A ripple of tranquility surges from my center as a whip of wind catches me. For a second, I can almost pretend it’s going to whisk me away. I float for less than a breath, and in that short, stolen moment of time, I can imagine all too well what it would be like to shift into the mighty dragon I’m meant to be.
My soft skin would harden into an armor of scales. Great leathery wings would bud from my back, and formidable fangs drop from my mouth. My size would dwarf the moon itself, and I’d ride the gelid currents back to the blood brokers and sorcai that hurt me, and I’d make them fucking pay.
But none of those things happen. Gravity yanks me from my wishful imaginings and shoves me cruelly back into my plummeting reality. Finality overwhelms my senses and when my fall doesn’t miraculously explode into flight, my heart drops even faster than I do.
My dragon is as trapped as it’s always been, but for once, maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it’s better that the curse will claim me too.
If I had my dragon, even if just a part of my power managed to reveal, I might survive this, and I need tonotsurvive this.
Death isn’t the escape I was hoping for, but it will do. At least I’ll go hugging the sky and kissing the wind, knowing the others are safe. Protected.
Knowing I didn’t break.
Alarmed shouts spill over the cliff’s edge I just jumped from. I smile at the sound of their distress and close my eyes, greeting the end like the long lost family I miss so much.
Fuck the Tainted.
Fuck the blood brokers.
And fuck The Horde. I hope the betraying bastards all die writhing in pain and become nothing more than forgotten ash on the wind.
