Page 66 of Scorching the Alien Empire
Aenarael.
She rumbles in amusement, her many voices overlapping in an eerie symphony.“I know...”Her enormous head tilts, mockingly thoughtful. “Let’s call him Dracoth. It rings with a wonderful irony, does it not?”
Laughter shakes her monstrous form, her mighty chest rising and falling in an unsettling rhythm.“The cycle burns eternal,after all.” Her slitted eyes narrow dangerously. “Isn’t that what the hypocrite scribbled into my spoiled pet?”
“They’re not scribbles! They’re his molten blessings!” I snarl, fury clawing its way up my throat. “He gave them to me because he loves me! Because I am his blessed daughter!”
“Love,” Aenarael scoffs, blowing out plumes of smoke from her bestial nostrils. “Are atoms bonding in the heat of creation love? Does your blood love the oxygen it carries? Or are they simply processes? Love is nothing more than sweet little lies you tell yourselves to keep the darkness at bay. To infuse meaning into your fleeting, insignificant lives.”
Her words dig into me like fangs. But I refuse to falter.
“You know what your problem is, Aenarael?” My voice is steady, sharp. “You’ve lived too long. You’re just a cynical bitch who’s had it too easy for too long. It’s pathetic, really.”
My skin hums with the heat of my divine blessing, each mark a testament to my ascension. “If only you could feel what I feel—deeply, desperately. Inside me burns the unquenchable thirst for life that Arawnoth ignited within me. While you? You’re hollow. Brittle. Faker than dollar-store high heels.”
Aenarael’s eyes darken. A storm of fury builds behind them.
Good.
I exhale slowly, bracing myself. I’ll die here. I know that. But I won’t be her plaything. Not anymore.
I slap my hand against Dracoth’s neck, the movement familiar and natural.
“Fight for me, Dracoth. Like you always do,” I command, adoration flooding through me.
My eyes lock onto Aenarael, fire burning in my heart.
“I’ll put you out of your misery, you godly bitch! Kill her!” I roar, gesturing toward the silver monstrosity.
Dracoth lets out a deafening roar, his mighty wings buffeting me with incredible force as he swoops toward Aenarael’s draconic form.
“How uncouth,” Aenarael tuts, sounding almost bored. But I’ll make her care—I’ll make herfeel. Then, with an earth-shattering roar, she plunges toward us, jaws wide, massive fangs gleaming like silver swords in the dazzling sunlight.
The wind tears through my hair, making my eyes water as the roaring dragons hurtle toward each other like colliding meteors. My heart pounds in my chest as I grip Dracoth’s spine ridge with all my might, clinging to him as tightly as I would if he were the real Dracoth.
Then—impact.
A monstrous force nearly tears me from Dracoth’s back, my legs barely keeping me anchored. They collide with an ear-splitting cacophony, molten ruby and gleaming silver twisting and snapping like wild beasts locked in a death struggle. My world spins in a chaotic blur of mesmerizing colors and thunderous sounds.
“Kill her, Dracoth! Rip out her throat!” I cry into the howling wind, murderous elation blooming within me.
Massive claws the size of cars rake against Dracoth’s chest. Sparks and a deafening shriek erupt from the impact, leaving huge rents in his thick scales. Fiery flumes and hissing crimson ooze from the wounds, filling me with fury. Dracoth roars in agony and rage, terrifying heat building beneath his tough skin.
I gasp in awe as he belches forth an immense wave of molten flames, bathing the blue skies in liquid fire.
Aenarael tilts her elongated neck, narrowly avoiding the blazing death. The flames reflect beautifully off her polished, mirror-like scales.
Panic grips me—she’s inhaling. Her chest expands with terrifying power.
“Down, Dracoth!” I order, my eyes locked on the immense, opening jaws.
Dracoth tucks his wings, diving fast enough to make my stomach lurch. The clouds swallow us whole, the world turning to mist—until a booming crack splits the sky above.
I glance up just in time to see Aenarael’s attack: a wave of liquid metal, solidifying into jagged shards midair, streaking downward like a meteor shower. The air shrieks with their speed, the projectiles punching through the clouds, a heartbeat from tearing us apart.
“Now, Dracoth!” I command as Aenarael swivels her head, searching for us. My red dragon bats his colossal wings, carrying us upward through billowing clouds.
Aenarael’s mercury gaze snaps to us—red lightning thundering below, partially veiled in the clouds. “Nice try, my little pet,” she booms, her voice bestial, tinged with amusement.
