The Fiery Breath (dragon shifter chronicles book two)

Chapter Four

It's late. I stare at the castle walls. The dark stained into the air. My fingers press against the smooth rough rock, and I shove my hand roughly against the cool paved stone. My thoughts stumble one after the other, and I think as my eyes stroll across the sparkling specks of dust that hide behind the fluffy navy blue clouds. 

I know I should be happy. Truthfully I am. I am also relived to know that my father is back, safe and sound. That Vincent is alive and now Sivarno. That I will be able to see my family again, that Sophia is alive, well, and happy. I'm still shocked though.

A night ago, I wondered into a dream where my sister was somehow seeing my mothers death, even though that is a memory she shouldn't be able to remember. I walked into Sivarno's nightmare, where I watched him kill me as the moon powered his mind to do it. I'm growing soft, feathered wings on my back. I had to cut holes in all my nightgowns so the wings had room, and although I have fought off all the visible evil, I get the feeling evil still lingers, laced onto the dark rock walls of my fathers volcano. 

I let my hands drag through my soft hair, and the strands fall through my fingers, clean and well kept. My eyes lock onto a garden rose, resting on the ground  softly. Pale moonlight flickers over it, leaping off from the soft, smooth moon that glows a brilliant light in the dark blue sky. The rose lay, it's soft purple petals lost in the strands of smooth green grass.

A butterfly strolls through my window, it's wings a soft light blue and it's body a dark, dark black. It's wings flapped, little strands of red stained and splattered across the wings. It finds it's way to my shoulder, pressing it's feet into my shoulder. I walk as it waits on me, and then falls asleep. Just like that, the little butterfly drops, it's legs and paper soft wings dropping down to my shoulder. A feeling of shock overwhelms me, and I pull it's thin soft body into my hands, gently, letting it's wings droop against my palm itself. I smile, a warmth spreading from the butterfly to my skin, and in my chest. Happy to see something so tiny trust something so giant, that could squash it in a minute. Happy to see that kind of trust longs and burns inside this world. I press it gently onto my window, so it sleeps with fresh air. I make sure to drop a soft fluffy blanket over the smooth edge of my window before placing it onto the window though.

I turn around and fall to the covers of my bed. My hand presses through my hair one more time, and I let my eyes drift closed slowly. My body rolls so I'm lying on my stomach, and I pull my large, arching wings of soft feathers over my body as covers. The feathers radiate a soft heat. I fall into a heavy sleep, lost in the darkness of my closed eyelids and the almost eerie silence of my rooms. 

Someone is walking down the hall.

My eyelids flicker open, and I roll of the bed, pushing away sleep as it pushes against me, trying to draw me back into bed. I might it though, and stumble out of my room. A lit candles lights an  eerie amount of light in the room. It flickers across the stone, and shimmers, casting a creepy glow. I shift my weight into my side and lean against the wall, a quiet yawn escaping my lips as I shift so my wings feel comfortable as I lean.

Then I hear someone, or something crying. I know the voice immediately, and a horror spins inside me, an aching appearing. I feel my feet pushing off the ground as I stride forward, racing down the hall and gliding forwards. "Sophia," I call out, the tiredness draining away.

Suddenly, a familiar body appears, jumping forward out of a corner. A gasp appears, leaving my mouth. Even more fear starts to twist inside me, bleeding and staining my insides. Then I notice though his changed looks though and his less deep red hair. His skin is paler, and he is shorter. He has worry creased in his face, and his fingers and body seem to shake. His eyes are what take my fear away though. The deep, burning hatred that was locked so tight and seemed to boil inside him has disappeared. They seem to be less red, and more soft. Almost pink, but not completely. The hatred is replaced by kindness.