Gilded metalwork arched overhead, the vast open air visible through the bars. With a leap, he pumped his wings and soared up, up, up, breaking through the cage as though it were little more than paper. Ravens surrounded him on all sides, their cries loud, the whoosh of the wind through their feathers even louder.
As they continued to arch into the sky, he banked left, pulled by a power calling out his name. He raced over the forest until the land gave way to sky, revealing the thick white blanket stretched out below, enshrouding what lay beneath. He dove, the distance disappearing in seconds as he sank within the foggy folds, blending into the night. The ship broke through the mist with sudden clarity, a phantom cutting across the waves.
He had to get inside.
Sticking to shadows and dim corners, he swam through the sea of darkness as swiftly as a spirit and snuck into the ship, then moved through unlit corridors and black-cloaked crevices until he was in the room. A boy slept on a bed, his dark hair spilling over his pale skin. They weren't the same, not quite, but he still smelled of fire and smoke, as familiar as a dream. He reached out his hand, his onyx scales silky as they closed the distance, and lightly ran his claw along that smooth cheek, waiting, waiting—
Rafe woke with a gasp and jerked his hand to his cheek. A line tingled across his skin, burning beneath his palm, almost as though it had been scratched. Heart thundering, he rolled off the bed and landed on his feet before scanning the room, but it was empty.
A nightmare, he thought, shaking his head. It was just a nightmare.
It had felt so real.
He half expected to see scales along his fingers, deep obsidian and oozing darkness, but his fingers were just that, fingers. No claws. No bloodstains. Just plain pale skin. Rafe shrugged off the heavy blanket across his shoulders, letting it drop to the ground with a thunk as he crossed the room to press his nose against the small circular window. Outside, waves slapped the sides of the ship in a soothing rhythm. The last thing he remembered was flying over Da'Kin in search of the ship. Then his vision had gone black and his memory blank until waking up here. Brighty must have found him. She must have brought him back.
I'm not a beast.
I'm not a monster.
The words quieted the pounding in his chest. For a moment, he'd thought maybe the dragon had won. That he truly had become all the things he feared. But the bloody massacre hadn't been real. He'd slashed no throats. He'd ended no lives. He'd saved Lyana from her king, then she'd saved Xander, and everything was fine. It was just a dream—a horrible, horrible dream.
Right?
The hairs on the back of his neck stood. Rafe rolled his shoulders, the window catching the reflection of flames as his wings shifted along with his muscles. A tickle slipped down his spine, the sense of being watched.
He spun.
There was nothing behind him but deep, impenetrable shadow.