Page 132 of Only Flames Remain

Dragons.

Another cry rent the air and I stood, rushing toward the caved in portion of the prison to scale the wreckage. It was the only way out now.

My gaze caught on a quiver and bow pinned among the rubble by a heavy boulder. It must have been in one of the rooms above. Or perhaps it belonged to one of the guards.

I reached down to grasp it, needing to be armed as chaos consumed everything around me.

I sent a silent prayer up to the old gods once more for having bestowed upon me the only weapon I could truly yield. I pushed with all my might, dislodging the rock and allowing the bow and quiver to free itself.

A hand cut off at the elbow was still wrapped around it, fresh blood still coating the sleeve. I leaped back with a yelp, dropping the weapon and the hand still attached. It cascaded down the mound of wreckage, coming to a stop on the floor of the dungeon.

With a heavy swallow I scaled my way back down. I hesitated for only a moment before separating the dead man’s curled fist from it. I needed it more than he did.

I strapped the quiver to my back and grasped the bow. I turned back toward the mound, steeling myself to begin the climb once more. The remainder of that soldier’s body was somewhere among the rubble, and I prayed that I didn’t encounter it or uncover it as I climbed.

The prison might have been broken open, but my mother remained chained to the wall of her cell. She still couldn’t get out. I scaled the rocks as quickly as I could.

I was out of breath, a frustrated groan ripping free from my throat as my chest heaved, the skirts of my dress tangling around my legs.

A crash sounded from behind me. I turned sharply, my mouth falling open. Portions of the castle had been dropped from above, trapping my mother and any other prisoners below.

I needed to stop this. Needed to find out what in the seven hells was going on.

As I searched the skies above my stomach dropped, realization settling deep in my bones.

Not dragons.

Dragon.

Only one.

Sorin had come for me.

CHAPTER 41

Aveline

My heart dropped as I crawled out of the ruins. There was no more palace in Myros—only remnants. The great silver castle had been reduced to dust and ash.

“Sorin!” I called out his name, fighting my way to even ground with the bow held precariously in my closed fist. It was difficult to keep my balance, but I refused to let it go.

When I crested the last boulder of what had once been the palace, my feet refused to move forward. The breath rushed out of my lungs as I registered the horror that lay before me.

The realm was on fire.

If it weren’t for the sun making its slow descent beneath the horizon among the smog, I wouldn’t have known that it wasn’t already night. Fire raged in every direction, smoke and ash filling the air and causing every inhale I took to be painful in my chest. I coughed, sputtering as I fell to my hands and knees in the dirt.

No…not dirt.

Ash. Soot.

When I lifted my hand and rubbed my thumb and forefinger together, cinders coated my skin in a thick, noxious layer.

How could he?

How could he do this?

Myros was still my home. I was raised here. These people…they were my friends and family. They had nothing to do with the war Myros and Gothryn raged against one another. They had nothing to do with the rivalry between Sorin and Kallias. They were innocent.