The Raven Flame [The Crown Saga III] (First Draft)

Armored Heart

She was absolutely beautiful.

Scales—no larger than the palm of my hand—shrouded her sinewy frame in shades of a cloud-free sky with chasing colors of wisterias looming from the roots. Their tips were more rounded than Arok's spiked scales but not as round as a spy wing's.

Perhaps she was a new type of dragon that Pangea had yet to introduce.

The dragon's opaque claws scraped against the stone below as she took another step toward me.

Between her flaring nostrils sprouted a spiked horn approximately the size of the dagger from my first trial, followed by smaller spikes traversing up the bridge of her snout, between her narrowed eyes, before spreading across her forehead like a field of lethal barbs.

Six mighty horns protruded from each side of her head, each one slightly smaller than the last. The barbs extended in varied sizes around the horns and further around her head like a crown of wild water frozen in time.

She moved with the grace of a cat, her steps barely noticeable through the ground that should've naturally shifted under her weight. She wasn't as big as Torrach. In fact, her horns barely reached halfway up his long neck, but the energy spilling from her was as if standing before a being of monstrous proportions.

I held my breath when she stopped less than five yards from me. I desperately wanted to step back as the dragon's warm breath washed over me like a desert wind, but I stood my ground.

One sign of weakness, and she could incinerate me in a matter of moments. Pangea had told me to stand brave, so I did.

The dragon eyed me carefully, scrutinizing every tiny gesture and every involuntary flexing of my muscles. I didn't look away.

She snarled at me, baring her pointed fangs where small remains of her last meal were wedged between crossing teeth. The air before me filled with a stench of rotten fish and death that nearly made my stomach churn.

Her wings lifted from its idle state along her body, spreading and revealing a pale blue membrane and deadly hooks sprouting from the thumbs of her wings. They looked sharp enough to sever someone's head from their body with one swift and precise swing.

The long tail swiped across the ground, curling around her left hind leg. The tip was also covered with deadly spikes, just like her head—the purest killing machine.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when she lifted the tail before slamming it into the ground again.

She growled as if displeased with my performance and lowered her head. White-hot fear snaked around my throat when the dragon opened her merciless jaws, revealing endless depths of darkness.

I hadn't passed her assessment. She was going to reject me, and the spirits could finally lay claim to my overdue soul.

Time slowed; panic threatened to tear my lungs apart. Would she dismantle me? Summon a hurricane to tear my flesh from my bones?

Instinct urged me to run, but as soon as I shifted my weight, I felt fingers wrap around my arm and hold me back.

I didn't look away from the dragon, but I knew without a doubt that it was Pangea—a warning for me not to move.

Did she want me to die?

There was no more time for me to escape, so I shut my eyes and prepared myself for the end awaiting me.

Moments passed, and no excruciating heat struck me—no sharp pain tore through my flesh.

I hesitantly cracked open one of my eyes only to find the dragon's jaws shut closed, and its snout was now barely inches from touching me.