Page 12 of The Dragon 2 (Tokyo Empire #2)
“I. . .am going.” She backed up some more. “And you will be leaving in the other direction.”
He stood.
Heat rose around her. It licked at her ankles, coiled up her spine. The chill she’d wrapped herself in trembled and then faltered.
“Unfortunately, I cannot leave you here.” There was no humor on his face. "You have been in the wrong place for too long. It is now time for you to come with me, little one."
She shook her head. "I am not going anywhere with you."
"You must. I like treasure and you are priceless. Kingdoms have burned for less. Even if I wanted to walk away from you, I could not."
What?
Panic clawed at her ribs.
Her pulse thundered.
She raised her hands, power singing in her blood. Ice bloomed at her fingertips. With a cry, she hurled twin bolts of frost toward him.
He moved too fast.
A blur of shadow and heat, dodging the blasts like a phantom.
But then he came for her.
She barely had time to gasp before he struck—hands like brands seizing her arms, heat ripping through her skin like wildfire licking bone. They seared into her arms, devouring her frost with a hiss.
Her magic sizzled.
Heat swallowed cold.
Terror lanced through her.
Just like Korin.
No, no. This isn’t possible.
She screamed and lashed out, a desperate blast of jagged ice erupting from her palms.
The bolt slammed into his chest with a thunderclap. His scream tore through the air—more beast than man, a guttural rupture that split the night and slammed against her ribs like a war drum.
What is he?! How did he make that sound?!
He released her.
She fell to the road hard, rolled, scrambled to her feet, and bolted off the road.
She didn't run toward the Lowly Quarter.
No.
She couldn’t.
Her parents were there. They were powerless. They wouldn't survive a creature like this.
So, she ran into the Wretched Forest.
Thorns tore at her already tattered dress. Roots clawed at her bare feet. The trees seemed to shift and reach, but she didn’t care. She had to get him away, to somewhere she could trap him.
Maybe even kill him.
That thought made her stomach twist. She had never killed before. But if she had to. . .she would.
Behind her, his voice chased like smoke. "Running will not help you. I have your scent now. From now on, you will never be able to hide from me."
She screamed and hurled a blast of ice behind her.
A grunt followed, telling her that she’d gotten him.
She kept running.
Branches whipped her arms.
The stench of old bark and moss filled her lungs.
And then, all of a sudden, behind her, the forest groaned—and then a new sound came. A terrible, monstrous cracking, like ancient bones snapping beneath a giant's foot.
What is that?
She glanced back and barely saw the man, but she did see trees shattering in succession, one after the other, as if the very earth had grown tired of holding them upright.
No axe did this. These were trees screaming—splitting from the inside out, their cores shredded like sinew, their trunks cracking open like bone, under divine weight.
What kind of magic does he have?
Limbs exploded outward, bark rained down like shrapnel, and the cries of splintering trunks filled the air with a violence that didn't belong to any man or beast she knew.
Where is he?
Something massive was coming—ripping through the forest like it had no right to exist within it.
She ran forward, faster than ever before, and then. . .she looked over her shoulder again, and what she saw made her trip and fall to the ground.
Goddess help me!!!
The man was there again, but he was bigger, taller, wider. His monstrous form leapt into the air and his body began to reshape even more.
His body convulsed.
Warped.
Skin split in flashes of molten light.
Muscle surged and bone snapped outward—louder than thunder—as something too old for flesh ripped its way out of him.
His back arched unnaturally.
Bones cracked.
His limbs stretched, distorted.
Black and gold scales erupted across his skin like boiling armor.
This wasn’t a man changing shape.
This was a god remembering himself.
No!!!!!!!!!!!!
His face split wide and ungodly massive jaws shot out from the middle, expanding into a humongous snout.
Dear Goddess!!!
Golden horns curled from his skull.
His eyes—those same burning golden eyes—grew and flared as his body enlarged tenfold in height and then more.
Screaming, she quickly scrambled backward through the dirt, scooting away on her hands and heels.
No. No. No!
Korin.
It was him.
The man was Korin.
There had been no record of this possibility.
No song.
No scroll.
No whispered legend that claimed Korin could take human form.
Nothing in the history of Hareef.
And yet—there he was.
The truth in scale, fang, and fire.
His wings formed tearing and ripping through the forest.
With a thunderous beat of those huge wings, he soared for her.
“No!!!!!!!!!!!!”
His enormous body blotted out the moonlight. In seconds, his massive claws reached down and snatched her up like a doll.
“Help!!!!!!!!” She screamed, higher this time, ragged and panicked. "Somebody help me!!!!"
The wind howled past her ears as he rose into the sky.
And then. . .he roared.
The sound shattered the forest.
Korin.
God of fire.
Korin.
Slayer of kings.
Korin.
Now flying with her in his claws.
And Sol—still wet with fear, still glowing with magic, still trembling with a truth too big for her name—was no longer a Lowly woman running from fate.
She was now in fate's grip.
And it had wings.
And she had no idea where they were going nor what Korin would do to her.