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The shadows engulfing Naia’s limbs thinned, granting her freedom to move. She glanced down at her clothes, the gloves on her hands, all licked clean from any traces of Ronin’s blood. She could still feel it crusted on her face, in her hair. If she could trick one of them into?—
Solaris’s powerful presence emanated against her backside. She twisted her head to find his arm extending for her. Before he could grab hold of her, she swerved and brought her leg up to deliver a fast kick to his gut.
He let out a grunt and simultaneously caught her by the ankle, jerking her forward. She stuck out her arm and pushed against his shoulder, lifting her free leg up to connect the toe of her boot to his chin.
He staggered on his heels, giving Naia enough time to run through his wall of fire and scale up the rubble into the brewery. She would not allow Marina out of her sight. Not with Ronin nearby.
She was on the second story, crawling her way out of what remained of the staircase.
Naia gripped Marina by her nape and flung her down the charred stairs. They snapped from the impact, crumbling.
Her hood fell to her shoulders, and her once immaculate black strands were now a tousled mess, much like the torn black fabric of her cloak. Pride swelled in Naia to witness Marina in such a state.
Marina inclined her head and growled. In a flash, she was gone and fabricating amidst a swirling ribbon of smoke in front of Naia, fisting her silver strands. For a brief moment, Naia was hopeful, but she caught a glimpse of Marina’s hands protected by elegant gloves.
A searing wave of pain screamed in Naia’s scalp as Marina hurtled her through the gaping hole of the brewery, sending her across the gravel road.
Naia curled her arms over her head, bracing herself as she met the exterior of the warehouse. Broken stone scraped the skin of her arms and legs, followed by an excruciating agony of bones splintering and stabbing through her flesh.
She rolled across the concrete floor and into a massive metal tank. It moaned on its bolted foundation. Shouts and commotion rang among those seeking treatment and refuge in the building.
Naia struggled to her feet, wincing at the sharp stabs of pain piercing her ribcage. Fresh blood warmed down her leg. She cursed under her breath, limping forward. Lethargy made her movements sluggish.
Find him.
Several people rushed towards her.
“Are you okay?”
Keep him safe.
“Get help! We need help!”
“I will be… fine,” she said, her tongue dragging in her mouth.
A gentle set of hands came around her arms.
Noah stood in front of her, a gash on his forehead, his curls dampened with Ronin’s blood. He fixated on the chunk of stone gaping out of her side. As if to ask for permission, his eyes met hers and she nodded.
Naia ground her jaw. The grip of his fingers slightly tightened on her arm. She turned her head away as the block of stone was torn out of her flesh.
Naia cried out. A ravine of blood gushed down her hip and she slumped forward, catching herself on Noah’s bicep. He supported her weight when a rush of dizziness threatened her stance.
“Thank you,” she mumbled through numb lips.
He released her with a firm nod.
She climbed through the hole she’d put in the wall, gripping the rough, jagged edges of the stone.
“Naia!” Ronin’s arm wrapped around her chest from behind, pulling her into him. His nose and mouth nestled the back of her hair. His breathing was ragged, and his touch was sticky.
“Avi!” Damian shouted from inside the warehouse.
“We need more healing!”
The stench of sweat mixed with the metallic tang of blood hung heavily in the air, clinging to those who remained on the battlefield. Naia could hardly tell if it was their own or Ronin’s. They tripped over dead bodies scattered across the gravel, vandalized with horrendous bite marks and slashes across their throats. One of which was a pink-haired witch. Her eyes were wide and lifeless, devoid of her beautiful range of emotions.
Naia’s heart descended into her stomach at the sight of Violet.
