Sneak Peek – SHADOWS OF FIRE
Lyssa
Lyssa stirred awake, peeling open her eyelids. Smoke burned her eyes, wafting from something nearby that had been set ablaze. She waved it away, shivering from the cold, rough texture of stone beneath her. Disoriented and frightened, she blinked into the suffocating darkness, struggling to recall the chaotic moments prior to her petrification.
Slowly, she stretched her tail and wings, and the stiffness in her muscles eased slightly. As she moved, fragments of her memory returned. The gargoyles’ healing gift from the moon goddess, Fionnlaith, had saved her, but the memory of the battle and frantic escape still haunted her.
Her group had fought off vicious kabegar, a toothy canine with purple and black fur, when a dragon blasted them with fire. Because she was injured, the moon’s light turned her to stone to heal just before the inferno struck.
The first crushing realization hit her: she was alone. No sister or friends at her side.
The second realization: her beloved book, the cherished link to the human world she adored, was gone—missing. She had it secured within her bag before the flames of the dragon’s attack. This wasn’t just any book; it was a romance novel given to her by a human, a precious gift that had opened her eyes to the complexities and beauty of human emotions and relationships. Her fascination with the human world, its history, and its literature had always been a source of joy and wonder for her. Losing the book felt like a severed connection to a world she longed to understand and be a part of.
To make matters worse, when she had returned home after escaping her first prison, she discovered that her entire collection of human books and items was missing. It was the last of her treasures. The emptiness left by their absence was profound, deepening her sense of loss and disconnection.
Her clothes, crafted from enchanted Elven fabric, still clung to her form—a small miracle amidst the devastation. Hope fluttered in her chest; if her garments had survived, perhaps her precious book, within the Elven satchel, had too.
The faint glow of mushrooms embedded in the walls illuminated the vast cave around her, casting eerie shadows that danced across the stone. As her night vision adjusted to the dimness, she took in her surroundings.
The cavern breathed around her, its crystalline walls pulsing with an otherworldly radiance that seemed to respond to her emotions. Veins of luminescent minerals traced ancient patterns across the ceiling, their soft glow revealing the true vastness of the space. In one corner, a natural spring emerged from the rock face, its waters collecting in a pool so still it mirrored the crystalline formations above like a sheet of black glass.
The air carried multiple layers of scent: the overpowering smoke, the mineral-rich tang of wet stone, the musty sweetness of cave moss, and underneath it all, the ancient, indefinable smell of dragon magic. Small rivulets of water carved paths down the walls, their courses determined by centuries of patient erosion. Each droplet’s impact echoed through the chamber, creating a subtle percussion that marked time in this timeless place.
She found herself in an iron cell, with its bars looming above her like the teeth of a beast ready to devour. The cage, large enough to house a dragon, mocked her with its vastness. Despite the space, the iron bars stood too close together for her to slip through and were too thick to bend.
The air hung thick with smoke that filled her nose and clung to her throat, filling her lungs with every breath. In the distance, water dripped with metronomic precision, each splash amplifying her sense of isolation.
Panic surged as she thought of her sister and the other gargoyles—where were they? Were they alive? Had they been captured as well and escaped? Their absence and the void left by her lost book stung like a gaping wound.
With trembling fingers, she brushed off rivulets of melted gold that clung to her skin—remnants of her arm cuff. As she touched the metal, fleeting memories of her father crafting it flooded through her mind. His skilled hands, steady and sure, had shaped the gold, infusing it with love. The warmth of that memory provided a fragile sliver of comfort, grounding her amidst the uncertainty.
Gathering her courage, Lyssa rose on unsteady legs. Each tentative step echoed through the cavern, her heart racing in tandem with the sound.
After quickly perusing her cell, the bars that separated her from the world beyond drew her gaze. Past the cold iron, a vibrant pile of gold and gems sparkled in the dim light, casting a mesmerizing glow. The treasure seemed almost out of place in the otherwise grim surroundings, a beacon of hope and mystery.
Beyond the hoard, the cavern opened up into a vast, shadowy expanse. Jagged stalactites hung from the ceiling like ancient, stone teeth, dripping water that echoed through the silence. The ground was uneven, with patches of slick, moss-covered rock that glistened.
In the distance, faint glimmers of light hinted at hidden pathways, winding deeper into the darkness. Intricate patterns of mineral deposits adorned the walls, shimmering subtly as if whispering secrets of the earth’s history. Occasionally, the soft rustle of unseen creatures added to the eerie, yet mesmerizing atmosphere.
That’s when she spotted a silhouette. Immense and imposing, the figure drew closer, moving with an elegance that belied its size.
Instinctively, Lyssa pressed herself against the cold stone wall, her breath catching in her throat. She watched, transfixed, as the creature—a dragon—navigated the cave with fluid majesty.
The play of light across its scales created a hypnotic dance of shadow and gleam, a beautiful yet terrifying sight.
Stay calm, she commanded herself, the words a fragile mantra against the crushing weight of her circumstances. She knew she couldn’t remain hidden forever, but neither did she wish to draw the dragon’s attention and risk becoming its next meal.
With agonizing slowness, she shifted her position, putting more distance between herself and the magnificent beast. The dragon, seemingly oblivious to or ignoring her presence, continued its languid exploration of the cavern.
Its nostrils flared as it sniffed the air, each exhale sending small puffs of smoke swirling around its massive head. Her heart pounded as it moved closer.
What could it be searching for?
After what felt like an eternity, it finally settled, curling its enormous form into a ball of scales and latent heat. Its breathing deepened, filling the space with rhythmic snores that reverberated off the stone walls.
As the dragon slumbered, Lyssa’s fear began to mingle with an insatiable curiosity. She found herself marveling at the creature’s form, even as her practical mind screamed at her to focus on escape. The dragon’s iridescent scales shimmered in the dim light, casting a mesmerizing array of colors across its gigantic body. Each scale seemed to hold a rainbow of its own, reflecting hues of emerald, sapphire, and amethyst.
She marveled at the creature’s claws, which were as sharp as they were fearsome, easily capable of rending stone and steel, and as long as her arm. The dragon’s teeth, visible even in its sleep, were like rows of ivory daggers, promising swift and certain death to any who dared to challenge it. Its sinuous tail, coiled around its body, twitched, hinting at the immense power contained within.
The dragon’s wings, folded against its sides, were vast and leathery. Its long neck, adorned with a mane of spiked scales, rose and fell with each deep, rumbling breath. Despite the danger it represented, she couldn’t help but be captivated by the dragon’s majestic and terrifying beauty.
In that moment of relative calm, as the dragon’s rhythmic breathing filled the cavern, Lyssa’s mind turned to her sister, Sage. Memories of their daring escape from their previous imprisonment surged forth, igniting a spark of determination within her. If Sage could find a way out, so could she.
* * *
Lyssa moved methodically along the wall, her fingers tracing every inch with meticulous care. Each touch was deliberate, searching for loose rocks or a soft vein of dirt that might offer a chance of escape. Paying extra attention to the crack that allowed in the sunlight, she used her claws to attempt to pry away chunks of the stone, but to no avail. The stone was too hard, too resistant to her efforts.
She checked each of the metal bars of her cage for weakness. The rhythmic snores of the dragon punctuated the heavy silence of the cave, creating an almost hypnotic backdrop. Exhausted, Lyssa huddled in the corner of her cell, her thoughts racing after failing to find a way out.
The prison walls were a tactile journey for her hands, smooth, glass-like sections yielding to the rough, bark-like textures, each telling a story of its own in the language of stone. The iron bars weren’t simply planted in the rock; they were fused with it through what must have been powerful magic, their bases flowing into the stone-like roots into the soil.
The cavern’s acoustics created strange effects, carrying sounds from distant passages while muffling others nearby. Sometimes, she thought she heard whispers in other chambers or the scrape of claws on stone.
The shadows danced around her, shifting in the flickering light from the glowing mushrooms growing on the walls.
As despair threatened to swallow her whole, she collapsed into a fitful sleep. When she opened her eyes, a figure stood between her and the dragon. His visage was striking. Short black hair framed a face with well-defined features, high cheekbones, and dark skin that seemed to absorb the dim light.
His deep, soulful eyes and charming grin conveyed a range of emotions. There was something alluring about him, an inexplicable comfort that washed over her as he stepped closer. He projected an aura of safety, his presence somehow familiar, drawing her in.
“Hello.” He waved with a smile. He extended a hand toward her, a gesture of friendship, yet his eyes glimmered with an intensity that set her on edge. He wore a loose-fitting top and pants, both dirty and stained—likely from living rough in these mountains, struggling to survive as she had before her capture. . No wings or a tail. Not a gargoyle.
“Shh.” She placed a finger before her lips. “Are you not afraid of the dragon?” she whispered.
He shook his head. “He ate and will sleep for a while.”
“Who are you?” she asked, trying to keep her tone steady despite her racing heart.
“I’m Zodiark,” he replied, his smile disarming. “I mean you no harm. I’m here to help.”
She moved closer to him. As he spoke, she caught a whiff of his scent—a mix of earth and fire—that ignited a flicker of recognition within her, yet there was an underlying smell she couldn’t identify. A wave of elation washed over her; he was her mate.
Yes! Thank the goddess. She beamed inwardly. She wasn’t about to reject her mate like her sister Sage. She had been waiting too long. Yet even as happiness bloomed in her chest, a voice in the back of her mind cautioned her.
His presence both excited and calmed her, a paradox that left her slightly dizzy. As if sensing her internal turmoil, he settled beside her, close enough for his warmth to reach her but not so near as to appear threatening. His eyes, deep and mysterious as the night sky, held a gentleness that seemed at odds with his predatory grace.
Gathering her courage, she asked the question that had been burning in her mind since she first caught his scent. “What manner of being are you?”
His eyes flickered for just a second—so briefly she thought she might have imagined it—before he answered. “Why, I’m human, of course.”
Lyssa could barely contain her excitement. A human mate! Her skin tingled with anticipation. This will be a love story, just like my book.
His eyes glinted with curiosity as he tilted his head slightly. “And you? What manner of creature might you be?”
She straightened proudly. “I am a gargoyle,” she declared.
“A gargoyle,” he repeated, as if savoring the word. “How fascinating.” He tilted his head. “Would you like to know more about me?”
When she nodded, he smiled.
Zodiark began to tell her a story, his tone low and soothing, each word carefully chosen as if he were sharing a precious secret. “When I was young, I lived in a small village nestled among the mountains. My father was a skilled hunter, and he taught me everything he knew about the forest. We would spend hours together, tracking animals and learning their habits.”
As he spoke, Lyssa found herself drawn into his tale, the earlier warnings in her mind growing fainter with each word. His voice wrapped around her like a warm blanket, and she settled in to listen, eager to learn more about the mysterious human destined to be her mate.
He continued to reminisce, his voice filled with nostalgia and warmth. Lyssa listened with great interest, her eyes wide and attentive. She leaned in slightly, captivated by the stories and memories he shared, each word painting vivid pictures in her mind. The tales of past adventures and cherished moments wove a comforting spell around her, momentarily easing the weight of her own worries.
“I’d love to hear your story. How did you come to be in the capture of a dragon?”
“I’m not quite sure the answer to that.” She shrugged. “What do you know of the dragon?” she ventured, hoping to glean more information.
Zodiark’s expression darkened as he glanced at the sleeping beast. “The beast is not to be trusted.” He wrinkled his nose. “He may seem protective, but there are darker intentions behind his actions. If you remain here, he will eat you on a whim.”
Lyssa’s heart raced at his words, the seeds of devastation taking root in her mind. “What do you mean?” she asked, curiosity battling with fear. “I didn’t know any dragon could be trusted.”
“Dragons have their own ways,” Zodiark explained, his tone grave. “And this one is not the benevolent guardian he will pretend to be. I have seen what he is capable of. If you want to escape, you must trust me.” He put his hand through the bars and held her cheek.
His gaze pierced through her defenses, instilling a complex mix of emotions—gratitude, hope, and an inexplicable sense of connection. She was drawn to Zodiark, an unexplainable bond urging her to have faith in him.
“You’re going to help me escape, right?” She stepped closer.
“Of course.” He smiled, reaching for her hand.” His touch sent a shiver through her. Then his glare turned steely, a cold intensity burning in his eyes that pierced through the darkest shadows. “But not until I find what Drayce stole.”
Curiosity piqued, Lyssa pressed further. “What did he take?”
Zodiark hesitated, as if weighing how much to reveal. “A powerful artifact of great significance. If I can reclaim it, I’ll have the strength to confront Drayce and free you.”
His confidence was infectious, and hope rekindled within her. “So, what’s the plan?” she asked, her resolve strengthening.
“I don’t know yet,” Zodiark admitted, his expression a mix of determination and something unreadable. “But together, we’ll discover a way. Remember, I’m here to protect you.”
“Okay.” She paused, biting her lip. “Could you help me locate my sister after you get me out?” She moved closer to the bars, pressing her face between them, hoping Zodiark would kiss her. “I don’t know where I am, but you do.”
She licked her lips, trying to convey her intentions more clearly. Yearning to feel his mouth on hers. Yet he didn’t seem to get her hint, his gaze turning to the pile of gold and gems the dragon slept upon.
He turned back to her, his smile widening, though a flicker danced in his eyes. “I promise, Lyssa. Together, we will discover a way for you out of this nightmare and reunite you with your sister.”
As they prepared to face the unknown, Lyssa felt a spark of determination. Despite the shadows looming large, she was no longer alone. With Zodiark at her side, she was ready to fight for her freedom, determined to locate Sage and escape this cave before the dragon swallowed her whole.
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