Page 101 of Princess Avenged

Spikes on a dragon would not be shocking on its own. What is shocking, is that I swear when Rosomon rose from the beast, one of the rounded protuberances was lodged inside her.

And I can’t help but stare at the phallic shape, as she slides down the dragon’s wing to land on the rock. Not only does the knob look very phallic, it seems to be pulsing and glistening in the odd light.

“You are not of this world.” Rosomon strides toward me, and she points toward Phil. “But he is.”

Phil struggles under the dragon’s claw. His hands on the two talons that run across his body, just below his shoulders.

“No.” I step forward. “None of us are of this world. His mind was captured by something that belongs here. But he doesn’t.”

“Nevertheless, he must be killed.” Drawing a long sword from a hilt at her side, Rosomon strides toward Phil. She plants her foot on one of the dragon’s huge claws and raises the weapon as if she plans to behead my love.

“No!” Racing toward her, I land on my knees, pleading with her. “I can slay the demon and save the man. Only I can.”

Her sword stays raised, but looking into my eyes, she tips her head to the side. “You love this man. The one housing the demon.”

“With all my heart.”

She drops her sword to her side. “Then I will give you the honor of slaying him.”

I bow, pressing my forehead to the rock for a moment. “Thank you.”

Her fingers lift my chin. “Rise to your feet.”

I do as she says.

“You call yourself a princess, and yet you knelt and bowed before me.”

Straightening my posture, I look into her eyes, the most unusual shade of green—almost neon. Like no eyes I’ve ever seen. And her hair, tied back in long braids is a shimmering mix of pinks. Everything about this woman is extraordinary, not to mention the dragon she rode in on.

“Neither the circumstances of my birth, nor my title,” I tell her, “should dictate my merit or my right to place myself above others. And in this particular negotiation, certainly it is you who holds all the power.”

She smiles. “You are wise, Anastasia. I like you.”

“I like you too.” I nod. “But I’ll like you even more, when your dragon releases my love.”

I glance toward Phil. He’s struggling, his head trapped between two of the dragon’s talons, almost like the dragon has him between his extended index and middle fingers. Phil’s eyes are once again dark and unrecognizable, and that sight pokes holes in the bucket of hope I’ve been carrying.

“Would you like to share a few tender words with your love, before slaying him?” Rosomon asks, and the weight of what I’ve promised to do sinks down on me. I promised not only Rosomon, but Ember too. And I feel as if a mountain has landed on top of me.

Crusher arrives at my side, putting his arm around me and propping me up.

“Are you Princess Anastasia’s servant?” she asks.

I shake my head no, at the same time Crusher answers, “Yes. I am her most loyal servant. I would give my life for this woman.”

“Good,” Rosomon says. “Anastasia needs your support right now.” She turns toward me. “Kill him, or I will.” She glances toward the wall of blackness. “Do it quickly. More of his kind will soon arrive.”

She points the hilt of her sword toward me, offering it. “Kill him. Now!”

“I…I don’t have the right weapon.” I shake my head, despair flooding me. We have no time to find the sword. “Can you help me find it? I need a sword that looks like this.” Hand trembling, I remove the dagger from under my sleeve.

The dagger transforms in my hand, turning into a long, shining sword. The sword is in technicolor, like Rosomon and Zogar. The gems in its hilt are sparkling, and its blade is gleaming, catching light from an unknown source.

“Hurry,” Rosomon says. “Zogar will hold him down as you slay him.” Zogar seems to be sleeping. His faceted eyes are no longer like diamonds but obsidian. Black and hard like stone. And Phil’s head remains sandwiched between two of his long talons.

The sword is heavy in my arm, and I look into Phil’s eyes. A glimpse of the man I love flashes for the first time since the dragon and rider arrived.

“It’s okay, my love,” Phil says. “Even if I don’t survive, this is what I want.”

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