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The warrior’s calloused hand yanked me away from Ember while he swung that sword again and again, pushing Solok through the trees, Ember screaming behind me as the distance between us grew wider.
“You’ll be safe in Solarys, I swear it.” There was calm certitude to the male’s voice, as if he was fulfilling some long-held promise. For one impossibly long second, our eyes met. “I will keep you safe, my princess.”
Staring up into those eyes that were so earnest, I believed him. “I know you…”
Then Solok threw his battle axe, the enormous blade spinning, imbedding into my thigh with a bone shattering thunk, deeply enough the entire world paused for one horrifying moment. Pain streaked through my body, so intense my vision wavered.
The last thing I saw was a flash of blinding white.
The last thing I heard…the male’s scream leaving his lips.
I came to flat on my back, blood gushing from the axe wound, spent embers drifting in the air around me. The Shadow King’s mercenary lay on his back beside me, sightless eyes wide open, his once-beautiful face burned to a crisp.
No. No, not again.I moaned, tried to roll over, to check to see if the male had somehow survived, but I couldn’t move. My body was drained, yet I managed to lift my hand, brush his ashy cheek with my fingers.
What…what had I done?
Everything around us was on fire, and Solok was on his knees beside me, both hands pressed to my wound.Had he known? That the pain would somehow release my magic?
“You’d better not die.” He hissed. “Heal yourself, Anaria.”
“I don’t know how.” The words were nothing but desperate pants of pain, spots dancing in my eyes, my leg on fire. “I can’t. I don’t how…”
“If you die, little thief, the first thing I shall do is slit your friend’s throat. Heal yourself.Now.”
“I can’t.” I sobbed, writhing in the pool of blood soaking the ground around me. “Please…” Ember had both hands clasped to her mouth. She was completely terrified, her eyes on Solok.
I couldn’t focus, there was too much pain, too much…
“Push your magic toward the pain, you stubborn wrench, not away from it. Do it now, or you’ll bleed out.”
I did as he said, forcing the remainder of my magic through my torso, past my hips, pushing and pushing like I’d seen women do when they gave birth, until my leg went numb, the pain slowly diminishing.
“Very good, Anaria. That will do.” He clipped the collar around my neck, and I collapsed, my magic evaporating into nothing.
There was a juicy, glutinous sound and Solok’s gaze slid away—mine following—to where the Mistress knelt, feasting on one of the fallen mercenaries. I gagged at the wet sound of her gluttony, heaving up water and bile into the loamy soil. Ember crawled over to me, and I touched her blistered cheek, her singed hair.
“I’m sorry.” I choked. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. Oh gods, Em, what are we going to do?”
Solok pushed to his feet, then crouched down beside the huge mercenary and tore a chunk out of his throat, swallowed it down, then looked straight at me, his face dripping blood. “You’re safe until we reach Tempeste. Don’t worry, little thief, I won’t allow anyone to steal you away. Not when the king is so looking forward to meeting you.”
I gagged, not even breathing. I didn’t want to go to Tempeste anymore. Never wanted to set foot in that cursed city.
And this terrible power…I reached up and touched the iron around my neck. What had happened to me when I crossed through that portal? Had I become a monster, like these two?
I felt like one. Ember looked at me…like I was one.
And that poor warrior…
I bit back a sob, trying to figure out what was wrong with me. Who were those men, and why did they claim the Shadow King sent them? Why would they call me—a nobody slave—princess?
Questions looped around my exhausted mind, everything blurring together.
Ember and I held each other the entire night while our captors consumed our attackers—or perhaps our saviors—whole.
11
ANARIA
