Read Online The Princess' Dragon Lord by Mandy Rosko - Free Book Online Page A

was cut off as an all
encompassing hellfire consumed her body. She opened her mouth to
shriek, but nothing came out, and her fists clenched until her
nails bit into her skin.
    Despite the pain and the panic, she was still
perfectly aware of what was going on around her, which made her
suffering that much worse as it was the only thing she was able to
think about.
    It was like she was being electrocuted, the
same feeling as the last time this had happened, only this one was
so much worse than the last, and a thousand times more painful. Her
skin burned like hot lava until it became as cold as January snow.
She couldn't move her body, could barely hear Azoth's screams or
the dragon's roars until they faded into the background like
nothing. Her eyes stopped working and she bit down on her tongue
until blood filled her mouth like a water balloon had just burst
inside.
    Despite her lack of eyesight and hearing and
the paralyzing fear that put inside her, the image of a man,
someone who was not Nyx, but equally familiar, flashed before her
eyes.

Chapter Eight
     
    Diana came into this new memory shivering.
The pain had abruptly faded but its effects were still upon her,
and it was like her nerve endings were getting used to the sudden
changes in her body.
    She wasn't physically hurting anymore, but
her mind still recalled the horrific pains, and her muscles were
reacting.
    She didn't know how much more of this she
could take.
    “Uncle!”
    Diana looked up at the sound of her own
voice. The princess ran into the arms of the new man in her
memories, the one she'd seen just before being pulled back into
this place.
    Uncle? Was this the man she—the previous
Diana—had spoken of when trying to tutor Azoth?
    The man's lips were turned up in a warm
smile, his arms outstretched in welcome as she flung herself into
them.
    Dagda. Diana's mind supplied her with the
name instantly. This man was the brother of Mab, and her uncle
Dagda. She recognized him now from one of the paintings in her
former room, one of the paintings she'd been packing away for when
she would leave with her husband.
    His hair was long and straight, the pale
brown color of a dogwood branch. For a split second, as the
memories swam in front of her vision, Diana thought his cape, the
same color as his hair, had some sort of white fur trim as a neck
attachment.
    Then his cape fluttered, revealing that they
were truly oversized insect wings, and that the white trim was
really a sort of fluff growing from out of his neck, like a
moth.
    Nothing shocked her anymore, and Diana found
herself accepting that fact with more ease than she probably should
have.
    Dagda, her uncle, and king of the fae in a
neighboring land, was impossibly tall. Memory Diana, wearing a gown
that consisted of oversized blue butterfly wings, had to jump high
in order to make it into his arms. The man's back remained stock
still during the catch. Her weight was not enough to produce any
sort of physical reaction out of him.
    Though his countenance was warm, his voice
and smile genuine as he congratulated her on her upcoming marriage,
Diana felt cold at the sight of her former self walking off with
him, arm in arm, discussing normal things like how his journey had
been and the food they would be having at the evening meal.
    She didn't understand the significance, and
found her body tightening in agitation. “What am I supposed to be
seeing here?” She called out as the two ghostly figures
disappeared.
    She could no longer assume that these
memories, suddenly haunting her now, were all a coincidence. If she
was going to assume that her life wasn't real, that it was all the
product of some kind of spell, then someone was breaking through
that spell to send her a message. There was no other
explanation.
    Her vision swam, and this time, for the first
time, she began to witness memories that didn't include her at
all.
    She reappeared in the center of what sounded
like a sharp worded argument, but it was