AllFreeNovel
Share Us
All I could think of was how were we going to tell Crescent? How were we going to tell Taina?
“Where is she?”
I looked down, hardly seeing Draven.
“Where is she, Morgan?” he repeated, his voice cold and hard.
For a moment, I had no idea who he was talking about. Then I remembered.
My sister.
“She was just there...” Dazedly, I turned back towards the forest line.
She was gone.
“Who was she?”
I shook my head, feeling dazed. “I don’t even know her name. My sister. I think she was my sister.”
Draven growled. “She’s dead. She’s mine. Do you understand?”
I nodded. It wasn’t as if I’d have tried to defend her. Sister or not.
I was starting to think Orcades had been the only worthwhile person out of a rotten and poisonous bunch. So much for fucking family.
A scream. One, then another. Then a wave of screams.
I turned towards the sea of tents behind us, my heart pounding. “The camp. The refugees.”
I started towards the camp, then paused to wait for Draven, who was gently arranging Gawain’s body on the grass.
He had just gotten to his feet and was coming towards me when the first arrow hit.
A jolt of searing pain shot through me, stealing my breath.
For a moment, I was frozen, looking down at the arrowhead protruding from my shoulder without fully understanding what I was seeing.
Then a second arrow found its mark.
I screamed, my left leg going out from under me, an arrow buried deep in my calf.
“Morgan!”
I turned towards Draven just as the wolves broke through the line of trees.
My breath hitched in shock as I saw the rider who led them.
He sat on the largest of the wolves, a bow in one hand, a golden spear in the other. His skin was a deep shade of obsidian. Dark, braided hair hung around his shoulders and framed a diamond-shaped face. He did not smile as my sister and Daegen had done. There was no mirth in his eyes. Only a commanding resolve that spoke of centuries of experience. His chiseled jaw was locked and resolute.
My heart was hammering. I knew who this must be.
“Lorion,” I murmured to Draven. The most brutal of our father’s generals. And he carried my father’s spear.
Could it be this easy? Was the spear truly so close? And yet, as I felt my leg give way and I sank to the ground, I knew it was not going to be easy at all.
The screams from the refugee camp were growing louder now.
“I see you’ve already met our sister,” Lorion shouted. “Tempest has no patience.”
