Page 40 of The Kraken Bride

Twelve

Leave before you think you should. Even then, it’s probably too late.

–An Incomplete Guide to Kraken Survival

Pain plagued me. I pushed past tree limbs, stumbled over fallen branches, and stepped on sharp rocks. But I didn’t slow. I navigated the forest, cradling my injured hand to my chest as it throbbed fast and furious, matching the erratic beat of my heart.

Trees towered in every direction, camouflaging what lurked ahead. My anxiety grew with each step. There could be traps. Mers could be hiding, watching me, waiting for the perfect time to strike. Maybe they were, maybe they weren’t. Either way, danger tracked my every move.

Once the primordial and his army healed—and they would heal—they’d hunt me if only to use me against Sebastian. So I sought shelter first.

If I could recover my strength, I could fly.

If I could fly, I could escape this land.

If I could escape this land, I could burn it and my pursuers to ash.

A manic laugh bubbled from my dragon. Ja. Kill—them—all.

The forest thinned, opening into a hollow I hadn’t sensed until I stood at its edge, nearly falling in. Stone all around. Not the jagged, torn rock of the shore, but something older. Ancient masonry that had endured time, wars and tide. Heavy with the weight of the ages.

Amber-veined boulders rose from the earth, forming a series of towering circles with razored points. The last rays of sunlight struck the rocks, seeming to ignite them from within.

I whimpered with relief. So did the dragon. Gold. Not polished, but alive. The kind only created by dragon fire and the passing of centuries.

Nests, accessible only by air. This place had once known a dragon’s hottest flame. This must be one of the islands Sebastian had mentioned.

Someone, perhaps the mers, had attempted to extract the gold. Score marks abounded.

Didn’t matter. Safety.

I used the last of my strength to unleash my smokewings, the appendages a tangle of heat and ash. The current dragged the weight of my body high, higher, every flap a new lesson in agony. Reaching the jagged upper points, I noticed abrasions. Courtesy of grappling hooks, I’d bet.

The mers had been here, and they’d climbed inside. Woven beds of seagrasses and broken shells lay scattered about. But not a sign of scale or fin. A mercy, considering my wings evaporated as the last of my strength depleted. But it meant they could get in again. I’d have to remain on alert.

To get inside myself, I could do nothing but fall. Down, down I tumbled. Boom! I crashed into the nest’s bottom with a hard, heavy thud. Bile rushed up my throat. Dark stars winked through my vision, and my breath came in ragged pulls.

Moaning, I rolled into a fetal ball, sucking air through my teeth and trying to ignore all the new aches and pains. Part of me wanted to stay like this until I recovered. To do nothing but breathe. To wait until Sebastian found me, as promised. My mind shouted, And let my foes win? Never!

When my stomach calmed, I looked at my hand to assess the damage. Tears welled, blurring at the gruesome sight. My pinky was gone. Not removed cleanly, but torn. Blood still oozed sluggishly, dark and sticky. Jagged bone peeked from the ruins.

Unlike Sebastian, who’d lost his pinky before immortality sped up his ability to heal, my appendage would grow back. Even still, rage flared hot and bright. I wanted the primordial’s head and heart on a silver platter. Imagined feeding both to swine, even as part of me recoiled.

But regeneration required fuel. Fire. Breathing deeply, I pressed my mangled flesh and exposed bone into a fissure that branched through the stone. A ragged groan slipped past my lips. Warmth from the rock, from the heat of the day, from the latent gold threaded below the surface leached into me, trickling up my arm, into my shoulder, then through the rest of me.

Scales rippled beneath my skin. The wound burned, not worsening, not any longer, but changing. The raw edge tingled, cells knitting slowly, bone preparing to grow.

As strength chased away weakness, some of the fog in my mind cleared. My plan cemented. I forced myself upright and got to work, gathering as much seagrass as possible into the center, creating a mound. Around the pile, I scored a shallow channel into the soil with my claws.

I knew that what I was about to do would act as an arrow to my enemy. Here she is, come get her. In fact, the moment I did it, a countdown clock would start, the next battle imminent. But there was no other way to finish the rejuvenation process. So…

Thinking of the mers and the primordial, I drew in a breath so deep it scraped my lungs raw. Heat answered the call, flooding my jaw, my throat, my veins.

I didn’t blow the fire. I loosened it. Flame struck the pile and roared to life, devouring the grass in a heartbeat. Smoke danced skyward.

As I stepped into the inferno, my undergarments turned to ash. Bliss came. Sharp, familiar, and oh, so exquisite as the flames wrapped around me. Fed me. My skin drank it in, the heat melting pain and weakness from my bones.

Strength swelled anew. More than I’d ever wielded. Where agony had hollowed me out only moments before, power now thrived. No new pinky yet, but the wound had closed. Relief and exhilaration surged.