Page 304 of Psycho Gods

Sheer power strummed through my veins.

I was frozen.

“Go to sleep,” Malum whispered, his flames surrounding me in a cocoon of peace. “We’ll take care of you. You did so well.”

Sleepiness dragged my eyes lower and made my limbs heavy.

Horse shifted on my shoulders.

He was also on fire.

He nuzzled his cheek feathers against the side of my face, then pecked like he was giving me kisses. He chirped three times, and it felt like he was saying “I love you.”

I kissed his feathered head gently.

He looked at me with adoration.

Scarlet flames trailed across his feathers, and he disintegrated into ash. The storm carried him away.

I blinked frozen lashes in horror.

A tear froze as it streaked down my cheek.

“A phoenix,” John whispered with wonder.

It hit me.

I understood.

Mother had set me on fire until I was incoherent. The High Court had mutilated my soul and I’d lived a colorless life—but suffering didn’t define my existence.

I didn’t struggle to control my power.

I was power.

Horse and I would rise from the ashes.

We would survive.

I yawned, and in the space between consciousness and sleep, the meaning behind Lyla’s warning, “You must embrace the dragon,” became clear.

It had been me all along.

I was the dragon of the House of Malum.

Part Four

Convalescence

“All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.”

—Poe

Chapter 60

Aran

THE AFTERMATH