White fire tore through my skin, a jagged flame running along bone, searing. I bit down on my tongue until blood filled my mouth.
The belt fell again. Crimson splattered across the rug, mingling with my whimper, teeth clenched around pain.
Breathe. Just breathe. In. Out.
I was Draconis. We did not break. We didn’t bow. I would endure. For my child, I would bear this.
The next strike traced a heavier path, dragging fire along my back, leaving a trail of agony from shoulder to hip. A stifled cry escaped, torn from lungs, clawing out.
I tried to detach, to push myself away. I pictured a little island with Kallias, sand warm beneath our feet, salt wind tangling our hair. The sun warmed our shoulders, kissed our skin—and the sea crashed in a steady rhythm while Tsunami played in its blue-green waves.
The belt yanked me back.
“Scream now.” Egath’s thumb brushed my lips, his gaze sharp, greedy, locked on the stream of crimson staining my neck. “Scream, Nienna.”
“Egath, no! She’s mine!”
Tallon snatched his hand, wrenching him away. Footsteps shuffled, the door slammed, and another blow came. He wasn’t done with me yet.
My mouth fell open, releasing a scream that tore through me, slicing coherent thought into jagged fragments. Rage coiled beneath the fear, a fire blooming with each strike, fury blooming in rhythm with pain.
The belt struck again, searing across my face, pulling a cry from deep in my chest.
His attacks continued, messy but relentless, hatred radiating off him in waves, pounding into my bones.
I screamed and screamed—for the victims, for the helpless, for the mothers shielding their children. I screamed for every injustice carved into the world, every right repaid with pain.
My throat burned. My body trembled.
I screamed myself hoarse, the sound twisting into a roar.
The roar of a dragon.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Kallias
Tsunami screamed.
The sound split the dark like a blade, sharp enough to rattle the windowpanes. My pulse answered before thought could form.
I ran before I could even strap on my armor. Sword in hand, I hurtled across the stone floor. Cold air scraped my lungs as I charged for the manor doors.
Ronan’s body slammed into mine, his jacket hanging open, laces half-tied and flapping. We staggered, the scent of smoke and leather clinging to him.
“She’s calling them!”
Curse it, curse it,curse it. I seized his jacket and spun him from the door, fabric twisting in my fist.
“Buy me time!” My voice cracked down the corridor as I tore back through the manor. “Thresher!”
The shadow appeared at my side without a breath of warning, fingers flying over buckles and straps as he belted my armorinto place. Metal cinched tight around my ribs. Steel kissed my shoulders with familiar weight.
The absence of Greaves struck hard. He had always fastened the final clasp with a calm nod, confidence steady as bedrock. No one else moved with that quiet certainty.
Gauntlets slid over my hands. I flexed, metal creaking. My spear waited against the wall. I snatched it and sprinted after Ronan, lungs burning.
Night still ruled the sky. Gyrak burst from the air and slammed into the mountain, stone exploding outward in a thunderous crash that shook grit from the cliffs. Half the path crumbled into the abyss.
