Page 11 of The Forbidden Dragon King

I pull myself up on unsteady feet. My head is spinning.

I concentrate hard, bending over to scrawl the beautiful runes with my blood onto the flowing skirts of my dress.

Almost done…

Suddenly, I hear yells and crashes somewhere close by. This time, from inside the palace itself.

The bedroom darkens with shadows.

The hairs rise on the back of my neck. A chill runs down my spine.

In their shifted form, Shadow Wolves are primal and dark. They are the true warriors of the Shadow Realms.

Merciless.

I can’t hold back the terrified sob, as the padded footfalls of a pack of wolves echo down the corridor outside the bedroom.

Only two more runes to draw…

Haunting ululations make me jump.

I let out another sob, as my finger is no longer bleeding enough to draw the runes. I lift my hand to my mouth and savagely bite my thumb. I barely register the pain beneath the white noise of terror.

Then I scrawl the next rune…then the final one.

The runes flare to life in a glowing, golden blaze of magic.

I slam my hand over my mouth.

Be silent, Spark. Don’t let these Alphaholes catch you. You’re scentless now.

I creep to the weapons again, this time lifting the spear. It’s light but almost as tall as I am.

I weigh it in my hand, satisfied.

This Omega won’t be fangless anymore.

Then I slide silently to lean against the wall, trying to control my trembling.

I quieten my breathing.

Don’t come in here. It’s the prince’s room. Off-limits. Please…

To my horror, a wolf’s jaws with the lips peeled back into a snarl, nudge the door open. Thick black shadows coil around its fangs, licking the air, as if tasting for my scent.

I forget how to breathe.

This is it.

How I die.

Shadow Gods, forgive me for everything that I’ve stolen and pretty much everything I’ve said and done. Particularly, the creative cussing. But I regret nothing. I can’t say this life has been fun. Screw it, can I be reincarnated as something better next time like a Fae Queen or a cat?

The wolf sniffs, long and deep.

I close my eyes, biting my lip. My hand clutches the shaft of the spear hard enough to whiten my knuckles.

Let the runes hide my scent.