A Curse of Scales and Flame – Magic and Marvels Read Online Max Walker

Categories Genre: Dragons, Fantasy/Sci-fi, M-M Romance, Magic, Paranormal Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 88669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
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“Now, Damien, you know damn well my schedule is wide open,” Robby shot back at me.

I chuckled at his sass. He’d been getting more and more playful as the days went on, a quality that I became really attracted to. His sense of humor was a refreshing change from the drier jokes I was accustomed to.

“Good, because I set up a little surprise for you.”

“A surprise? Shit, those scare me.”

“Don’t worry, you’ve got nothing to be scared about. Unless you don’t like—no, that ruins the surprise. I see what you’re doing.” I shake my head and gently nudge him. “We can walk there, or we can fly. Whichever you prefer.”

I didn’t mind the thought of stretching my wings, gliding over the ocean, even if it was only for five or so minutes. The feel of salty air against my scales always made me feel at peace. Add to that the feeling of having Robby on top of me, enjoying the same sights and experiences I was, it made the flight that much more desirable.

“Let’s fly,” he said, cracking his knuckles and stretching his neck. That answer made me grin wide. We’d been on a few flights since Robby had started staying at the castle. Mostly night flights, where we’d both zone out, buoyed by the stars and the quiet presence of each other. I could feel Robby growing more and more confident every time we took to the sky. He’d started to build a trust in me, one I swore to myself I’d never shatter.

“Let’s go to this side street. It’s quieter and a little wider.”

Moments later, I was in my dragon form, stretching my wings, feeling the massive muscles and armor of ruby-red scales rippling and shifting. There was a freedom to being in my dragon form that was incomparable to anything else I’d ever felt. Not only were all of my senses enhanced, but I felt like my emotions were equally as heightened, in a way that made me see through them, made me hone in on what I wanted to feel, which in this moment was just peace. Yes, there was plenty to worry about, but for the next hour or so, I wanted to create a little escape for Robby and me. Somewhere we could go to feel as though we were in a bubble, if only for a moment.

Robby smoothly climbed onto my back. Once he gave me the tap on my neck to let me know he was secure, I started to run forward. A couple of teens who were shooting the shit outside of a surf shop all dropped their phones in unison and watched me as I took off.

My wings lifted us high, the leathery skin filling with air. I sucked it into my lungs, drinking it like the purest water. I couldn’t help the grin that followed, my sharp teeth on full display. The weight of Robby on my back only made this moment that much more soothing. It was needed. This day was needed. Life had become too chaotic, too dark. This world was full of shit that wanted to tear you apart the second you showed any sign of weakness, and it showed no signs of relenting. If anything, what lay ahead could potentially be harder than the challenges we had already overcome.

That thought scared me. I was a dragon, a being set to live for two centuries, aging as if I’d only lived for one. I could engulf my fists in furious flames and could raze half a city block if I opened my mouth and decided to rain down molten fire. I shouldn’t be scared of anything; I was at the top of the food chain.

Nothing should scare me.

But the future terrified me.

I dipped us toward the ocean, following the line of beachgoers tanning on their colorful beach towels or hopping in the gentle waves. Some wakeboarders zipped down the shoreline, the surf too gentle for anyone to go out on a board. Up ahead, I could see our destination, its landmark traits jutting out of the sand like a thorny black spine.

That’s because we were headed toward one of my favorite spots on Earth: Manticore Beach.

It was a public beach in Malibu that had been named after the massive rock formations that rose up from the pebbly sand. It was a smooth black limestone that appeared to glitter and shift whenever the sun began to set, as if its namesake was buried under the sand, the manticore beginning to wake up from its ancient slumber and stretching its thorny tail.

We weren’t going down to the sand, though. I flew us around to one of the furthest spike formations. It leaned against its neighbor, creating a smooth and private platform that you could only reach if you had wings or could climb surfaces like a tree frog.



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