Page 11 of The Forbidden Dragon King
I pull myself up on unsteady feet. My head is spinning.
I concentrate hard, bending over to scrawl the beautiful runes with my blood onto the flowing skirts of my dress.
Almost done…
Suddenly, I hear yells and crashes somewhere close by. This time, from inside the palace itself.
The bedroom darkens with shadows.
The hairs rise on the back of my neck. A chill runs down my spine.
In their shifted form, Shadow Wolves are primal and dark. They are the true warriors of the Shadow Realms.
Merciless.
I can’t hold back the terrified sob, as the padded footfalls of a pack of wolves echo down the corridor outside the bedroom.
Only two more runes to draw…
Haunting ululations make me jump.
I let out another sob, as my finger is no longer bleeding enough to draw the runes. I lift my hand to my mouth and savagely bite my thumb. I barely register the pain beneath the white noise of terror.
Then I scrawl the next rune…then the final one.
The runes flare to life in a glowing, golden blaze of magic.
I slam my hand over my mouth.
Be silent, Spark. Don’t let these Alphaholes catch you. You’re scentless now.
I creep to the weapons again, this time lifting the spear. It’s light but almost as tall as I am.
I weigh it in my hand, satisfied.
This Omega won’t be fangless anymore.
Then I slide silently to lean against the wall, trying to control my trembling.
I quieten my breathing.
Don’t come in here. It’s the prince’s room. Off-limits. Please…
To my horror, a wolf’s jaws with the lips peeled back into a snarl, nudge the door open. Thick black shadows coil around its fangs, licking the air, as if tasting for my scent.
I forget how to breathe.
This is it.
How I die.
Shadow Gods, forgive me for everything that I’ve stolen and pretty much everything I’ve said and done. Particularly, the creative cussing. But I regret nothing. I can’t say this life has been fun. Screw it, can I be reincarnated as something better next time like a Fae Queen or a cat?
The wolf sniffs, long and deep.
I close my eyes, biting my lip. My hand clutches the shaft of the spear hard enough to whiten my knuckles.
Let the runes hide my scent.
