Page 286 of Scorching the Alien Empire
Formy‘Lexie-verse.’To win. To wipe that smug look off Bitch Brick’s face.
To show them all—the ones who abandoned me—make them seethe with regret.
Petty.
Small.
Stupid.
Not like Dracoth. Not like whathemeans to me. And now—he’s going to die for it.
Because of me.
Across the obsidian field, they break their clench—two gods, spent, yet somehow still rising.
Muscles coil. Eyes blaze. Their bodies twist—final blows arcing like divine judgment, powerful enough to shatter mountains.
My heart.
Then—BOOM.
A thunderclap. Both of them collapse.
“NO!” I scream. The sound tears from my gut like something sacred dying.
Inside, somethingshatters. A fire—a purple flame—ignites deep in my chest. It burns deep. It surges through the bond, through the threads that connect us, andexplodes. My silver joins his crimson. No longer flickering. No longer small. An inferno of love, guilt, rage—consuming his suffering, enveloping him,protectinghim.
As it always should have.
It rises high into the blackness, into that strange, sacred place that belongs to us alone.
I stumble upright, nearly falling as I sprint toward him. Dracoth rises and falls, blood pooling, breath rattling like a death drum.
Krogoth rises onto one knee, quivering hand pushing off the ground.
The gravy ring of bubbling lava hisses, kissing my skin with molten embers. I ignore it. Summoning shields to bridge the gap, before charging across, my heart pounding in my chest.
He’s dying. And it’s my fault.
“Dracoth!” I scream, desperate, shrill, hand outstretched.
He’s on his hands and knees, his huge form trembling, gasping. Krogoth lurches up beside him—quivering, face smashed beyond recognition, claws extending with a sickeningSHRIEK.
He’s going to kill him.
Rip out the beating heart I only just realized is mine.
“Hands off...” I snarl. “My babes!”
I fling my arm forward—silver arcs lancing the storm. Shields snap into being around Krogoth, silver edges reflecting the cackling ruby lightning. He reels, crashing against the barrier—shocked, barely standing.
I fall to my knees beside Dracoth, gathering his broken frame in my arms like something holy. “Oh, Gods... I’m here, I’m here—I’m so sorry,” I sob, clutching him tight. Every part of him is torn and bloodied. A knife twisting my guts.
“Must... win...” he rasps, grimacing in agony. “My... Princesa...”
He tries to rise. Of course he does. My Red Dragon.
“You don’t have to fight anymore,” I whisper, smoothing his blood-slicked scalp, my hands trembling. “Because... I love you, Dracoth.”
