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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Damien grabbed the golden cage in both hands. I watched as the bars melted, dripping down the pedestal in thick golden streams. It only took less than a minute for a hand-sized hole to appear. He reached in and grabbed the vial, gently handing it to me. I looked up at him, feeling an overwhelming wave of excitement, of hope. This could be it, all we needed. I wasn’t sure exactly how a single potion would break the curse, but at least we had it in our hands now. We just needed to get out of Marmont’s hoard and back to Blackthorne Castle before someone realized we were in here.

“We did it,” Damien said. He stared at the shining vial as if he were looking at the most precious gem in the world. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Let’s.” I turned, ready to follow Damien out of the hoard and figure out what our next steps were.

That’s when I heard it again. Clop, clop, clop. But the sound was louder now, faster. As if something was running… or maybe riding a horse? But who would have brought a horse down here? Could we have triggered some kind of defensive cavalry? Damien shot me a worried glance.

“That’s not the plumbing, is it.”

Damien shook his head. “No.” He started down the hall, moving quickly. “Let’s go. Now.”

He started to run, which only made me more nervous. What did he know that I didn’t? And how would we ever outrun someone riding on horseback?

The answer was: we wouldn’t. We turned a corner and came to a screeching halt as we saw the owner of those clop sounds. It wasn’t someone riding a horse. It wasn’t messed-up plumbing. It wasn’t the music from the party.

The labyrinth was guarded by a minotaur.

The creature towered over us, its bullish head nearly touching the ceiling, the horns scraping against it. It was now that I could see the scratch marks above us from the monster’s endless pacing. Its eyes were a blazing, bloody red, its body a twisted combination of human and beast, muscles rippling beneath a hide of coarse black fur. Its snarl was a sound straight from my nightmares.

“We’re in trouble,” Damien whispered. “I can’t turn to my dragon form without bringing this entire place crumbling down.”

“What else can we do?”

“We fight,” Damien answered.

The labyrinth erupted with a deafening roar. The minotaur, eight feet of twisted sinew and fury, charged, eyes ablaze, horns sharp as scythes and aimed down at us, ready to gore us in one swift movement. Its hooves pounded the onyx floor, and in its hands was an axe gleaming with a sinister promise of a swift death.

“Stay back,” Damien growled at me as his fists ignited in flames.

He met the charge head-on, grabbing the horns in his hands and twisting. Fire met flesh. The minotaur’s roar split the air as Damien’s fists struck, flames licking its hide, sizzling, crackling. I could smell the sickening scent of burning hair and cooked meat. It swung its axe, the blade hissing through the air. I could see rust and dried blood on the wicked blade.

Damien ducked, sparks flying as the axe crashed against the ground. Heat rose in the air, coming off Damien as if he had captured the sun in his chest. He dodged another blow from the axe, and another.

The minotaur was going on the offensive, and it looked like it was winning.

I scrambled, desperate, searching the rows of pedestals. Potions glinted at me as if each was offering their help, but I had no idea which one to use. Time slowed down to a crawl. We were so close, so fucking close. And now we were going to lose it all. Damien’s cries echoed down the hall with pain and determination, mixing with the minotaur’s howls.

It was rage incarnate.

I grabbed a vial, green and glowing, and threw it at the minotaur. Shattered glass sprayed across the floor. The minotaur’s movements dulled as the green liquid solidified around its hooved feet. Damien pounced, fireballs hurling at the beast. It was a dance of flame and fury.

The minotaur roared, lifting its legs and breaking free from the green slime. He used his axe to block the fireballs. For how large and lumbering the minotaur was, the bastard was also swift. It fought back relentlessly. Its axe whirled and sliced downward, directly at the crown of Damien’s skull.

I held my breath.

Damien dodged with flames trailing behind him. He was a streak of fire and defiance, and I was just a useless potion thrower. All the training I had gone through went up in smoke against a minotaur who could rip me apart with a pinky.

The minotaur struck again and this time landed a hit. Damien cried out, blood spattering from a wicked slice that slashed across his arm. I shouted meaningless words, feeling completely helpless and becoming paralyzed with fear. All I could do was hold on to the golden vial in my hands.


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