Dragons Realm by Tessa Dawn

Author:Tessa Dawn [Dawn, Tessa]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781937223175
Publisher: Ghost Pines Publishing, LLC
Published: 2015-10-27T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six­teen

King De­mitri Dragona groaned from the pain in his gut, the fire that was sear­ing his belly like lava, the poison that was scorch­ing his veins. He stared at the rampant carnage be­fore him, sur­veyed the blood­stained floor of the throne room, and gazed ab­sently into the va­cant eyes of the last corpse, the fi­nal pris­oner he had con­sumed as a sac­ri­fice.

The boy had been young.

He had been favored by the gods with a thick pelt of wavy blond hair that fell into deep blue eyes, and he had ar­gued for his life like a seasoned coun­selor, rather than a power­less cap­tive. Yet and still, he had also made a crit­ical mis­take, earlier that day: The cour­ageous lad had dared to an­ger the king’s middle son, to tres­pass onto the grounds of Castle Dragon, un­in­vited, and to ap­proach a Sk­la­vos Ahavi.

King De­mitri frowned, al­most feel­ing sorry for the mis­guided lad.

Al­most.

He stared closer and scowled. The boy’s fore­head was still drenched with sweat, his di­vinely ap­poin­ted crown of hair was now mat­ted and plastered to his temples, and he didn’t look peace­ful in death.

The king shoved the car­cass away.

What did it mat­ter if the youth had died a grue­some death?

So had the three sac­ri­fi­cial Blood Ahavi, who had presen­ted them­selves with pride, and they had been beau­ti­ful as well. He grim­aced, re­mem­ber­ing the fiasco. Each girl had ul­ti­mately writhed in agony, groaned in de­li­rium, and cursed the very king they served as the dragon had drained every last ounce of their es­sence and blood.

Still…

So be it.

They were all pawns, each and every one of them, just like the king and his sons, born to serve the greater good of the king­dom. And this day—this fate­ful May af­ter­noon—would go down in an­tiquity, along with De­mitri’s vo­ra­cious sac­ri­fice, as one of the most pivotal mo­ments in the Realm’s glor­i­ous his­tory. The de­fense of the Realm was no small mat­ter. It re­quired a great ransom and a ter­rible sac­ri­fice. And the cour­age to see it through re­quired a great and in­dom­it­able king, a ruth­less ser­vant of the people.

Hell’s fire, it was a very simple equa­tion: It re­quired a dragon that could shift.

As King De­mitri ran his thin­ning, elong­at­ing tongue along the tips of his still-pro­trud­ing fangs, he struggled to re­lax his body and wel­come the beast that was bur­ied within him, to let the change come nat­ur­ally. It wasn’t as if break­ing every bone, trans­form­ing every cell, and grow­ing scales, wings, and a massive jagged spine was go­ing to be a walk in the park for him, either.

He groaned with pleas­ure as the ser­pent in­side him stirred, lux­uri­at­ing in all the fresh es­sence, heat, and blood, snarling in an­ti­cip­a­tion of the up­com­ing trans­form­a­tion.

Soon.

The change would start soon, any mo­ment now…

And as it tran­spired, the king would do his best to simply let it hap­pen, to sleep the night away if he could, and arise at dawn as a fear­some, prim­or­dial beast. He would take to the skies as a dragon of old, nearly 270 years old, and then he would lay waste to the Lycanian fleet in grand, Dragona fash­ion.

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