𝘿𝙀𝙄𝙍𝘿𝙍𝙀 𝙍𝙄𝙑𝙀𝙍𝙎 was haunted by the memories of a life she could never live. A husband she could never have and a heart she could never truly hold. And a warmth that could never linger within her chest. Eyes of pale lilac were all she kn...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ VIII. 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝑾𝒚𝒓𝒎 96ᴀᴄ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
TENDRILS OF SMOKE SEEMED TO RISE FROM THE TIP OF THE MOUNTAIN WITHOUT END. It streamed like water from a river or tears from one's saddened eye. Deirdre's own pools of sapphire were squinted shut, a protection from the wind, which was thick with darkened ash. She coughed into the back of her free hand, making Daemon laugh. None of the volcanic environment affected him, instead he was rather refreshed by the heat and the burning stench.
Upwards and upwards the two went, their feet leaving deep prints in the dusty dirt as they walked. Wings pushed against the wind and loud cries burst into the air. Deirdre sucked in a breath, understanding finally. Yellow eyes watched them from overhead.
She paused, bringing Daemon to a stop alongside her. He looked impatient, practically jumping with the excitement of his mount. Caraxes awaited, and yet this girl looked so unsure as she took a step away from him. "What is the matter?" the Prince asked breathlessly, cheeks tinted a light pink.
Deirdre opened and closed her mouth wordlessly for a moment, sapphire eyes turning everywhere around them, looking for the blood wyrm, whom could no longer be seen. His shrill coos echoed in the distance. "You wish to bring me to your dragon?" she asked finally in a small voice. Her hands were clasped before her and she gently twisted one finger over and around another. Round, blue eyes stared at the Prince, "Is this the part where I am fed to your beast?"
