Xaden

I punched my fists against the stone walls of my prison until my knuckles bled and my healing magic felt like shards of ice as it tried to stitch my wounds back together. Dovrikxing Roulex. They were a plague to my people and trapped us in our mountain home. I had been captive here in their stinky prison ever since they captured me on the battlefield.

My wings ached and I stretched them out, grunting when the tendons stretched too far. It would take another ...