Chapter 50: Dark Descent

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^^^The Darkening's vibes in the 3rd book

Norah

Silence claws my insides, shredding every fiber in me until I am a shell that cannot bear to live without Rima.

Finally, I truly understand why Alyran's dragon chose to die in the tombs. He hadn't been blinded by rage, but blinded by the grief of living in a world where his rider was not there.

Something wet and warm spills down my fingers, down my arms and neck as I scream.

And scream, scream, and scream.

Rima.

We had been so close in the beginning. She was my dragon and I was her rider and together we would face anything and everything. But somewhere between there and now, we drifted apart. I drifted, closing myself off from the one being in the whole world who loved me unconditionally.

Until the darkness claims us, she would say. But now I am here and she is not.

Black boots appear in front of my lowered gaze.

"You should have appreciated her more."

Rage sends me surging up, reaching for their throat.

Air slams down upon me, my knees cracking on stone.

Not air, I realize. Magic.

"Lower," purrs a woman, her voice rolling like the heat of a bonfire.

A blazing inferno presses me down and down until my hands lay on the stone and my head touches the stone.

"That is how mortals should be," a woman croons. Red, dagger-like nails gently tilt my chin up to meet slitted eyes. "Worshipping their God."

Her eyes are like Rima's. Only hers had been like blood in snow, not the oranges and blacks of a dying sun.

Pain washes over me anew, chest splitting. Rima.

"My dragon." I don't know if I'm screaming or sobbing the words.

Her fingers squeeze my jaw shut until I can no longer breathe or scream. Anger flares in those powerful eyes, her jaw locking tight. "Why do you suddenly care?"

Tension eases enough for me to speak but it's mushed like trying to speak with my mouth full. "She's my dragon."

"No," she hisses. "She is my dragon. You haven't fully accepted her bond and never had the intention to do so. Dragons are a gift. Why would I bestow her back to you when you never appreciated her?"

Her truth leaves me silent.

"I thought so." She straightens, releasing my face to watch me cough and claw at my chest. The metal scales on my armor, slice into flesh and muscle and cover my hands in blood.

"Do you know who is before you?" she wonders.

I hesitate even as my skin is ablaze with her magic, my veins crackling in white fire.

It's a dangerous question. A double-edged sword with no right answer.

Still, I buy myself time. My eyes rise, roving over her muscled figure. She is beautiful like a sword is deadly. Power, like living flames thrums off her in waves. Her face is sharp, her jaw chiseled. Black hair is smoothed back, framing her grey-brown face and emphasizing her long, pointed ears. Gold earrings pierce the cartilage, shining like golden stars despite the dim lighting. Two curving horns rest atop her head, the color of orange fire coiling around like lava cracking through molten rock. I stare at her eyes, following the red liner on her eyes, the same shade of deep red staining her lips and staining her jumpsuit which looks more like a regal dress

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