It had been so peaceful in the inky clouds of his slumber. Had he been dead? Now pain swam through his body like an electrical storm on holiday at a water park. But more painful than his physical state, was the knowledge that he had failed Kyra. Or had he? He was slipping away, but he wasn’t dead yet. His body wrenched and wriggled in the clamp of a gigantic beast, and wind moved past at incredible speeds, sending his skin to shiver. The desire to close his eyes, sleep for an eternity, overwhelmingly strong. He struggled against it, laid his hands upon the claws, and allowed the beast’s emotions to seep through. Swift, in a rush of heated lava, the rage leaped from the dragon and raced through Sebastian’s nervous system. In that instant he knew—Marcus had him in his grasp. If Sebastian could muster the strength, he’d be able to scratch two things off his list before saying his final adieu: reap Marcus and return Kyra’s dragon. Sebastian struggled within Marcus’s firm clench to find his pocket.
