Icy pain streaked across my arm, and I looked down in slow motion. A blue crystal dagger was sticking out of my bicep.
Time stood still.
Silence wrapped around me like an icy blanket.
My aching arm cramped as it froze.
Iced over.
Cold streaked through my boiling veins like an electrocution of frost. I convulsed and tipped face forward.
My head slammed into hard rock, and blood splattered across my face as my nose shattered on impact.
I breathed roughly.
Mouth half-open and plastered against the rocks, I inhaled pebbles and grime. I didn’t care.
I no longer shook with a fever. My flames were extinguished.
Breathing greedily, I replaced the taste of ashes with fresh oxygen. The raw sensation of breathing fire still burned my lungs.
The flames that were pouring from my eyes turned to water. Tears felt cool against my fevered skin.
Hands grabbed my shoulders and hoisted me up.
The world tipped and spun.
Embers fell to the ground around me.
I coughed, and smoke exploded from my lips. I’d never felt so much like the dragon crest that represented the House of Malum.
The pads of my feet were raw.
My thighs cramped as I tried to support my weight, and I tipped forward.
This time, arms wrapped under my shoulders and caught me.
The silence was loud.
My skin crawled with the wrongness of the moment.
I’d lost control.
Everyone had seen me fail. I’d embarrassed my mates.
I hadn’t protected anybody.
Something jostled in my bicep, and I got a better look at the stalk of the crystal hilt that protruded from my skin. It was irregularly shaped.
A thin hilt stuck out, and a thick, flat blade was stuck inside me. It was almost paper-thin.
Arabella’s dagger was in my arm.
“You’re okay, I’ve got you, Corvus,” Scorpius whispered as he dipped his dark head low and kept his strong arms wrapped around me protectively.
I was a dead weight, but he supported me like I wasn’t seven feet of muscles.
His pale skin contrasted with my darker bronze, and the heady scent of bergamot calmed me.