Page 146 of A Taste of Torment
There is no space left for the fear I’m supposed to feel when faced with not only death but the monster of my nightmares.
Again, I’m powerless as I look up into the alien eyes of the demon prince. Grey skin. Black leathery wings. Claws the size of my dagger.
He stalks forward, so much like the night that everything changed. Everything is changing again, I realize.
I’m helpless, just like that time.
Except, this time, I accept it.
There is no anger or defiance left in my body.
I’ve already lost everything. Liz. My revenge. It’s all slipped through my fingers. Maybe it’s just poetic for it all to end like this, to be killed byhim.
Maybe it’s ironic that my nightmare has come to life, but I’m no longer afraid of it. Not afraid of him. Not afraid of death.
The monster places a claw under my chin. I tilt my head up to him, knowing I’m baring my neck to the beast. My eyes flutter closed, ready for death to take me.
At least, I think in the beat between realization that my death is imminent and the completion of the act, I won’t die with hatred in my heart.
There is only sadness. And somehow, that’s more beautiful.
I flinch when an explosion rattles the ground.
The world detonates, along with the ear-shattering crunch of twisting metal and the shriek of broken glass.
The monster flares his wings wide and bellows into the sky as the ceiling of the arena collapses—falling straight at us. I am rocked by sudden sharp pain, and my vision goes dark.
52
Just A Casual Chat with a Scaled Monster
Everything is black,but the pain is still as sharp as ever.
I’m panting, my lungs burning and nose filled with the acrid smell of dust and blood. I blink my mind away from the panic, but there is no new pain. The metal beams didn’t smash my brain in. The glass didn’t cut a thousand slices through me. The monster’s talons didn’t carve through my neck.
The weight of a heavy chest is pressing down on me and heaving just as desperately. His breath is warm on my neck.
His sweet smell blocks out all the others.
“Jarron?” I whisper.
A rumbling purr reverberates from his chest.Oh shit.The fingers at the ends of the arms holding me are sharp points. I squirm against the slight pressure at the bottom of my back.
The blackness surrounding me is not from or unconsciousness taking me. I’m in a cocoon of dark, leathery wings.
He saved me from the shattering arena. But now what?
The rumble is not a growl. Not a threat.
My fingers find their way to his shoulder and dragdown to his chest, where hard-as-stone scales scatter across his thick skin. The scales vibrate beneath my fingers.
“Are you well?” His voice is hoarse and alien. It echoes like there are two beings, speaking as one.
“Uh, I’m not dead?”
He growls again. My head spins. That’s when it hits me that I’m not talking to Jarron. I’m talking to his demon.
My heart hammers.Right, yeah, no big deal. Just a casual chat with a scaled monster.
