The silence after the explosion of the blood sphere seemed impossible. As if the world had held its breath before the spectacle of absolute power.
Ada, still on the ground, widened her eyes, unable to believe what she was seeing. The turtle, the thing that moments before had crushed her like a leaf, was now reduced to a bloody mass, groaning, broken.
And her mother…
Raphaeline looked more like a goddess than a woman. The wind stirred her long, crimson hair, which mingled with the mist of blood that swirled around her like a divine cloak. Her feet touched the sand, but the entire desert trembled as if afraid of her.
Ada shivered. Not with fear—but with reverence.
The turtle tried to move. The sound of bones cracking and flesh sliding across the ground resounded like a grotesque echo. Its front legs barely responded, one of them reduced to a bloody stump. The left eye had been pierced and was still oozing, dripping onto the sand. Still, the creature wouldn't give up.
