XIX
Dark opened his eyes. They were heavy with sleep, and he resisted the urge to close them and settle back down onto the floor.
Gold blinded him.
The walls. The floor. All around him, everything shone brightly.
He yawned and his jaw cracked, sending a wave of pain through his head.
He tasted iron in his mouth and spit out a glob of blood and broken teeth.
Why were his teeth broken? Why was there blood?
His head was aswim with fog and pain.
He dug his feet into the ground and they scraped against the stone floor. His claws were stiff, and he had to stretch them several times before the stiffness relaxed somewhat—but he still felt weak.
As he stood, a familiar image on the wall caught his eye. A painting of a black dragon with wings outstretched and glowing green eyes.
Him.
Or w
