Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
“Yes, sir,” I respond.
“I agree only as a matter of your safety,” Tairn mutters, adding something about the insolence of humans.
“Lieutenant Colonel!” a rider in dusty leathers shouts from the gate. “We need you!”
Degrensi bobs his head at the rider, then looks back at us. “Look, I don’t really care what you did to piss off Aetos; I’m too busy fighting a war to discipline cadets.” He gestures at the mess around us. “So, find whatever space you can and rack out. Get some rest. Then make yourselves useful wherever you see fit.” There’s a small but noticeable limp in his stride as he leaves us, heading for the gate.
We’re left facing more than a few questionable stares from passing soldiers and riders, some downright hostile.
“How are we supposed to sleep knowing most of these riders would happily put knives in our backs?” Maren asks.
“We can take watches,” Trager suggests, pulling a piece of feather fluff from his light-brown hair. “Once I get some sleep, I’ll offer to help the healers, too.”
“If they’ll accept it,” Cat notes, crossing her arms when a captain in rider black glares our way from across the bailey. “They’d probably put a knife in your back in gratitude.”
“Violet?” Rhi glances my way. “You know the outpost better than any of us.”
My gaze slides toward the southwestern turret, and a tired smile tugs at my lips. Even hundreds of miles away, he’s still taking care of me and doesn’t even know it. “I know where we’ll be safe.”
• • •
Ican’t find it. Panic seizes my heart as I throw items from the wooden chest at the foot of my four-poster bed, growing more and more desperate with each minute that passes.
It has to be here.
Heat scorches the side of my face as blue flames burst through the window of my chamber, and the blast knocks me backward. I crash into the full-length mirror, and glass rains down, nicking the top of my head. I throw myself onto my hands and knees and crawl toward the chest as fire catches my curtains and screams sound in the hallway behind me.
Panic threatens to seize my muscles. I’m out of time, but I can’t leave them. They’re all I have left.
Every inch is a fight, my body refusing to obey the simple command to move, and sweat beads on my forehead as the flames spread to the linens on my bed.
“What are you doing?” someone shouts behind me as I reach the trunk, but I can’t afford the time to turn, not until I’ve found it. Pillows, an extra blanket, the books my father sent with me—I discard them all, flinging them into the fire like sacrifices as I burrow deeper into the bottomless chest.
“We have to go!” Cat sinks down to her knees beside me. “They’ve already taken the hall. We need to fly!”
“I can’t find it!” I try to yell, but it comes out nearly silent. Why can’t I scream? Rail against the cruelty, the perpetual anxiety of impending doom? “Get yourself out! I’ll follow.”
“I can’t leave you!” She grabs me by the shoulders, soot covering half her face, and fear waters her dark-brown eyes. “Don’t make me try, because I can’t.”
“You have to live.” I rip away and dig back into the chest. “He’ll choose you. I know he will. You’re the future queen of Tyrrendor, and your people need you.” She hasn’t lost her crown. She’ll fight for what’s hers.
“I need you!” she yells, then gasps and throws herself over me as heat roars against our backs. Wood crackles and breaks, and then the heat changes, coming at us from every direction.
“Just another—” My fingers fumble, then finally grasp the miniature painting, and I register their soft smiles, the playful honey-brown eyes of my family before clasping the art to my chest. “Got it!”
Cat yanks me to my feet, dragging me toward the door, and we both startle as the beams of my bed come crashing down. Embers fly, singeing my hand, and the painting slips from my grip, catching fire on its way to the ground.
“No!” I scream as Cat tugs me backward, and as the flame engulfs the portrait, it’s no longer a painting…it’s them. My parents. My family. They’re burning.
“Stop!” My throat can’t force the word out as I’m pulled away to the sound of their screams, their tears, begging me to save them. “No! No!”
I come awake and jolt upright in bed, gasping for air and blinking off the remnants of the nightmare as sweat drips down the back of my neck.
Late-afternoon sun streams in through the window, lighting the bedchamber that had been Xaden’s, the one he warded so only he and I could get through. My heart races as I glance over the sleeping faces of my squadmates. Thank the gods that Xaden used the same warding technique on this room as he had on mine at Basgiath—I’d pulled my squad through one by one.