I sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly aware of how fast my heart was beating. My fingers traced the edge of the image like I was afraid I'd get burned through the page.
"Holy crap…" I whispered. "It's beautiful. And horrifying."
A part of me—clearly the brain cell that had no regard for self-preservation—thought, I wonder what riding it would feel like? Cue a brief mental image of me, smug-faced, mounted on Indrik's back, taking a selfie mid-flight as aurora-lights trailed behind us.
Epic. Selca-worthy.
Probably would get me verified on Mythigram.
But then I remembered.
I have Kaleon's essence in me. Divine scent, forbidden aura, cosmic red flag. Indrik would sniff me once and probably impale me before I could say cheese. The mental image shifted—me being launched into space by a crystal horn, limbs flailing like a ragdoll in zero gravity.
My smile wilted.
"Nope. Bad idea. Suicidal idea."
I shook the fantasy from my head and dove back into the text.
