In order to save the world from eternal night, Red must find a way to unlock the dormant power of the Sun Goddess running through her veins without killing herself and everyone she loves.
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The crystal pool evaporated in a cloud of steam as I hit the sizzling paving stones of my dreams. The gates of the opal castle were wide open, but the atmosphere was far less inviting; it felt like a boot was planted on the back of my neck, forcing me to kiss the scalding ground.
I rolled myself up in my silver cloak, curling into a ball. It was the only thing durable enough to block out the light, the heat; the inside wasn't cool, but it was bearable. Sweat poured down the column of my throat as I focused on my breathing, recalling the slow, methodical drum of Sebastian's heartbeat as I inhaled and exhaled. I had to conserve what little air was left in my makeshift tent as I worked on a plan, because brute force wasn't working. There had to be another way inside, to get the Sun Goddess's attention.
Light streamed through the walls of fabric, bringing out the lace on the inner lining. It was easy to forget about the pictures stitched into it, telling the pitiful story of my life so far. I'd avoided looking at it out of quiet self-loathing, eager to leave the past behind, but I was pleasantly surprised to see my latest adventures stitched into the panels as well.
The Orchid Mantis. The Queen Weaver. The River Nymph. I'd bested all of those smart, beautiful and powerful women with nothing but my cunning and my bare hands. I wondered if I'd looked as confident and imposing to them as I looked in the tapestry of my cloak, marvelling at the blend of contradictions in my likeness. Calm and compassionate, and yet fierce and ruthless; a hand that lifted up the weak and struck down the feared. Beautiful, I realised, almost startled by the fact. I look beautiful.
And all the more so for the changes I'd undergone and the effort I'd invested in bettering myself. I travelled back in time along the threads, not surprised to find them snarled around the time I joined the Blood Moon Pack. There had been pictures before that, but somebody or something had tampered with them, infiltrating my mind and tangling my memories beyond comprehension.
"You jealous wretch," I muttered, quietly seething at Nya's audacity. To be so desperate for power that she'd tried to steal it from another Goddess! "I'll show you what it feels like."
The silver cloak cooled in response to my resolve, turning blissfully icy. Spun from the threads that once tethered my soul to Hunter's, it was pure power ripped straight from the Night Goddess's hands, mine to fashion as I pleased. I conjured an image of mighty wings and impenetrable scales, pouring into the spell my desperate longing for a body that could plunge into a volcano and find the heat ticklish. I recalled how right it had felt to be airborne with Sol, the wind under our wing; every living thing beneath me, where it rightfully belonged!
Cool relief trickled down the back of my neck, washing over my arms. The cloak moulded to my skin and I watched in awe as it hardened into gleaming scales, silver as the Grace that lit up Hunter's eyes whenever he cast a spell. The opal gates shrank as I rose, muscle rippling through my legs. My arms unfurled into silver sails, utterly dazzling in the sunlight.
