To Flame a Wild Flower by Sarah A. Parker EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Authors: Sarah A. Parker
- Language: English
- Genre: Dark Fantasy Horror
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
ORLAITH
I rock, bunched and bound around myself, filling my lungs with a
drugging bout of air that’s all him.
So much him.
He’s painted all over me. Hideous smears on my hands and arms.
Drying.
Cracking.
Like the cracks weaving through my chest.
Don’t cry.
Don’t cry.
Don’t cry—
The choked echo of Rhordyn’s final words pummel me like fisted blows
to my unguarded heart. I tug the talon’s empty sheath from where it was
stashed down the back of my pants, chucking it like a hot coal.
What have I done?
Don’t cry.
I belt out scream after scream—the sound wilting with every painful
scour of my raw and ruined throat until each is barely a wisp of noise.
I thread my fingers through my hair. Fisting it. Tugging at the roots.
Images blooming on the backs of my lids in rapid succession:
The burrow. The small rank cells and their withered inhabitants.
The Aeshlian—chained beneath a single beam of light.
A cut in my palm. A trail of blood.
Rhordyn stepping amongst a pack of Irilak, validating Cainon’s
condemning accusations.
I saved lives, I tell myself, hammering the words into my brain until it’s
ripe and swollen.
I saved lives …
Then why does it feel so wrong?
My face crumbles, silent sobs racking through me …
Not real. Just a horrible nightmare.
“Wake up.”
My voice is broken glass. It’s a tree splintered at the base, now strewn
across the ground with flames licking its spindly branches.
It’s regret. Sorrow. Grief.
It’s the feeling that I’ve ripped something vital from my chest, leaving a
deep web of holes where the roots were sown. Where they came out bloody
and snapped in places.
Oily perusals scribe across me from all angles, making my skin prickle.
I lift my head, the waterfall’s thunderous heave a constant roar in my
ears. A cluster of Irilak are loosely gathered around me, watching, nesting
beside vine-strangled trees like black vapors spilling from the gnarled
trunks. Ghoulish spectators to my violent unraveling.
He was warm …
I flinch.
A nightmare. A terrible, devastating nightmare where I heard terrible
truths and did terrible things.
“Wake up.”
I slap myself. Again, and again, cheek flaming from the brutal assault.
When that doesn’t work, I reach behind my arm and pinch an inch of flesh.
Hard.
The pain doesn’t help. It doesn’t bring me a sense of relief.
Doesn’t wake me up.
A few Irilak move closer, stretching from one pocket of shadow to
another like dark taffy.
“Wake up.”
I release the latch of my necklace. Feel the stone, conch, and chain slip
down my front and thump into my lap. I ease my shirt off my right shoulder
and skate my fingers over the risen, barky blemish growing from my skin,
sobbing when my hand brushes a clutch of silky protrusions.
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