At last, Atticus opens his gleaming, sharp-toothed mouth, and in a moment, my bats are wiped out of the sky by a breath of flames.
“No!” Shadows erupt from me in rage, reaching up into the sky.
Atticus swoops out of the way to dodge them.
He’s playing with me.
He knows that I am outnumbered by an entire army.
He knows how special White Lotus and the pyramid tomb is to me and my people.
He knows that I have my Omega and Blood Lover with me.
If I allow my true nature to show and destroy these dragons, will Freya ever look at me as if I’m not a monster again? Will Dove tease me and call me pet names? Will Freya still bond with me?
Will I lose my only chance at love?
Dove cries out behind me, summoning his ravens to himself with a panicked whistle.
Numb, I am shaking.
My bats.
My friends.
Gone.
Never again will I shift into my bat form and fly free into the cold night skies with them. Never again will they whisper the secrets that they heard in the long dark. Never again will they nestle around me when I am thrown into the punishment pits by the Priestesses in the Scarlet Temple.
My throat is tight.
My claws extend, and my fangs grow. My eyes glow crimson with grief.
Suddenly, flames erupt from the fearsome ruby dragons in a wall of flame. The heat is blinding. It hits a row of houses, which explode.
Mud, silt, and dust rain down on the villagers — my worshipers.
The Turneds’ eyes are wild with fear.
Screams echo through the night sky now instead of murmured chanting.
The Turned scramble over each other in their panic to escape.
Except, there is nowhere to run.
The Turned splash and fall into the lotus pools, breaking the sleep of the flowers and their eternal cycle.
For this village, there will be no dawn.
Was I wrong to believe in hope?
The houses are melting under the heat into deformed shapes in the dark.
The lotus flower is crushed on the path in front of me. I stare at it, blankly.
Where is the little Fang who gave it to me?
This is wrong.All wrong.
