Page 3 of Legacy Ascended

I pull.

The strap takes the skin off the base of my thumb in one long strip and my hand comes through. The pain cuts straight through the drug. For about two seconds I can think perfectly.

The guard is still bent over me. I drive my forehead into his nose. Cartilage crunches, and he falls backward into the side of the van.

I throw myself out through the open doors.

The zip tie around my ankles catches on the bumper hitch. It jerks my feet backward, then snaps under my weight. I hit the stone on my bad shoulder and roll, tearing the dressing loose. Pain rips through my side.

Someone shouts behind me.

I push myself upright. The courtyard tilts, settles, then tilts again. My legs shake beneath me, but the road gate is still open. I can see it beyond a stone arch at the far end of the yard.

Somewhere beyond that gate are my mates.

I run.

My body responds too slowly. I clip the corner of a wooden crate, stumble, and keep going while boots pound the stone behind me.

I reach for my direwolf again.

This time, she answers.

Heat climbs my spine. My vision sharpens, and the shouting separates into individual voices. The darts stop the shift before my bones can change, but enough of her comes through that my legs steady and my stride lengthens.

Two armed men stand by the arch. One lowers his eyes when he sees me coming. The other takes an involuntary step back.

Good.

I race beneath the arch. A crest is cut into the stone above me—a broad-headed wolf standing over four peaks. I see it for only a second before it’s behind me.

The yard closes into a narrow section between high stone walls. The gate waits at the far end. The two guards behind me have recovered enough to start chasing me. Up ahead, someone by the gate starts dragging one side closed.

There’s still room.

People have pressed themselves against the walls to get out of my way. I see coats, frightened faces, adults holding children close.

Then a little boy slips between them.

He walks directly into my path and stops.

He can’t be more than five. His jacket sleeves hang past his hands, and he looks up at me without any fear at all.

I’m too close to stop.

I try anyway. My boots skid on the wet stone, and my knee buckles beneath me. The gate is closing ahead. The boy stands in the only open path.

I throw myself sideways.

I hit the ground on my side and skid. The boy is beside me now, close enough that I can hear him breathing.

One of the guards raises a dart gun.

He’s aiming at me, but if he misses, he’ll hit the child.

“Don’t point that at him.” My voice comes out raw. “Get it off him!”

The guard keeps lifting the barrel.