Page 130 of The Crown of the Dark Prince
The portals flickered, their golden light dimming, then vanished entirely. I felt Pasnia’s hold fade with the last of my power. My knees buckled beneath me, my body crumpling to the cold marble floor. Across the room, Pasnia slumped as well, falling heavily to her knees before collapsing entirely. Her head lolled back, her eyes rolling into nothingness.
“Pasnia!” Hyrax’s voice boomed, raw and thunderous, shaking the very air around us.
Gentle hands slipped beneath me, pulling my head into a lap. I blinked, struggling to focus, until Caldrius’s sharp eyes came into view.
“You’re here too,” I whispered drunkenly, my words slurring. My lips barely moved, as though even speaking drained what little strength I had left.
“It’s a surprise to me as well,” he murmured, brushing strands of my damp, matted hair away from my face. His touch was achingly tender, but his eyes betrayed his worry.
“I can’t feel my magic,” I said weakly.
No tingles. No energy. No hidden well.
It wasn’t like when Camilla had pushed it out of my reach, or when Mortal blood had dampened it. This was different. This was pure nothingness, a gaping void where my magic used to be.
“Shh,” Caldrius soothed, though his jaw tightened. “It’s going to be okay.”
But I saw the lie in his eyes. He didn’t know if it would be.
“Pasnia!”
Hyrax’s voice tore through the air again, dragging our attention back to the center of the room. He knelt over her, his enormous hands cradling her limp body. Her head lolled against his chest, her once-glowing skin now pale and lifeless.
“What’s happening?” I rasped, my voice barely audible.
“She exerted herself too much,” Caldrius said tightly, his hand still brushing against my temple. “She was already weak. She’s entering the Eternal Slumber.”
Hyrax roared, the sound feral and heart-wrenching, as Pasnia’s body faded. Her skin lost its luster, the glow of divinity draining away until all that remained was a gray, brittle husk of what she once was. Her fingers crumbled like ash as Hyrax tried to hold on to her, his grief palpable.
Pasnia had risked everything to bring Hyrax to the Mortal Realm—and hadn’t even lived long enough to greet him.
“Who did this?” Hyrax bellowed, his head snapping up as he rose to his feet. His power surged through the room, oppressive and suffocating, pressing down on every soul present.
In the Underworld, he had seemed like any other man.
Among Mortals, he was larger, stronger, more terrifying.
He scanned the room, his obsidian eyes blazing as they swept over us. They locked onto the Dragon.
The Dragon was still on his hands and knees, his misshapen wings jutting from his back at painful, unnatural angles. He groaned, his muscles straining as he flexed his back, desperate to either complete the shift or return to his Mortal form.
“That bitch cursed me,” the Dragon cried, his voice a pathetic whimper as he clawed at the floor. “I can’t complete my shift!”
Hyrax’s steps echoed ominously as he strode forward, his fury palpable. He loomed over the Dragon, reaching down with deliberate slowness. His massive hands clamped onto the base of each wing, and with one violent motion, he tore them from the Dragon’s back.
The sound was sickening. Flesh and bone ripped apart with ease, the wings falling to the ground in a bloody heap. The Dragon’s screams filled the air, sharp and agonized, making my stomach churn.
Hyrax sneered, his lip curling as he slammed a boot into the Dragon’s ribs, sending him skidding across the floor.
“You’re the bastard who beat my daughter,” Hyrax growled, his voice low and venomous. His words vibrated with an otherworldly power, sending chills down my spine. “And now you call my wife a bitch?”
The Dragon whimpered, clutching his chest, but Hyrax was unrelenting.
“This is how you speak of your Gods?” Hyrax roared, his tone dripping with disdain. He brought his boot down on the Dragon’s leg, the femur shattering beneath the force.
The Dragon screamed again, a hollow, broken sound.
Hyrax grabbed him by the jaw, hauling him upright as though he weighed nothing. His fingers dug into the Dragon’s face, forcing him to meet his gaze. The room seemed to darken, the shadows lengthening as Hyrax’s power surged.
