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Nismera’s back stiffened. She took another step toward Dianna, the generals at her side. Isaiah summoned his helmet back, all of them ready to take her on Nismera’s command. I saw then what Dianna was doing. She was baiting a trap and moving them away from me.
My smart, beautiful girl.
“You are arrogant, just like him,” Nismera all but spit.
“I’ve been told I have a mouth.”
Nismera’s small chuckle was riddled with annoyance. She spun her golden spear, keeping pace with Dianna. “I am glad you are here. Now I get to kill Samkiel’s mate in front of him. That will bring me joy.”
“You know, I gave you another try, but if that is your evil, intimidating speech, it’s lackluster, to say the least.” Dianna’s eyes burned a shade darker. “I can do better. I see a room full of overgrown children pretending to be rulers. You all stand around here, whining about your daddy issues. For fuck’s sake, you all had to bind Samkiel to beat him. You think that’s power? Please. You’re all pathetic.”
That was all it took. Nismera handled insults like she handled everything else—with extreme violence. She lifted her spear and pointed at Dianna. The others charged. Fear for her shivered through me. I grimaced, trying to push myself to my feet. I would not let her die alone. She had come for me, come back for me. If we died, we died together.
It turned out that my efforts were not needed. The room exploded in a milky white burst, stars and dust scattering in every direction, shielding Dianna and me.
Roccurem.
A thunderous roar ripped through the room, Nismera voicing her rage. Roccurem cried out in pain, and the flare of white light was nearly blinding. The room came rushing back, blinded generals bumping into each other.
Nismera’s eyes burned, glowing silver veins running through the burning white. She snarled, looking for Dianna and the fate that had just betrayed her. Unable to locate her targets, her head whipped toward me. She shoved her own generals out of the way. Hate twisted her features as she stomped toward me, but it was too late. Dianna was quicker. Dianna slid across the floor. Her arms wrapped around me, and Nismera’s blood-curdling scream shattered the remaining windows as the floor beneath us opened, swallowing us whole.
Ninety-Two
Dianna. 0 Days.
My body hit the ground, Samkiel landing on top of me so I could take the brunt of the fall. The portal above us closed, blocking my view of Nismera raging at our escape. I stood, taking Samkiel with me. It was just like Eoria when I’d rushed into a room full of monsters to save Gabby. Only this time, it was for Samkiel. I’d almost been too late. The memory of Nismera standing over his damaged, bloody, and beaten body with that spear held against his throat had turned my insides liquid with fear. It had helped that they had only bothered to post a few guards. Nismera’s arrogance had definitely worked in my favor. I had killed and eaten them quickly, but even with the boost from feeding, I had been severely outmatched, my skin crawling from the power pulsating in the room. But I didn’t care and didn’t hesitate. Samkiel was dying.
I’d overused my power again and summoned a portal, trying to get as far away from them as possible. I couldn’t think about Roccurem and what he had done. He had saved us. For once, someone had betrayed for me, and it meant more than I could say.
My feet skidded as I tried to keep us moving, supporting almost all of Samkiel’s weight. It terrified me. Samkiel would never lean so heavily on me if he could help it. My body ached from my wounds and using it as a battering ram to gain entrance to Rashearim. Slashes remained on my shoulder and side but were slowly healing.
Samkiel grabbed his midsection with his remaining hand, grunting in pain as he turned to look at me. His eyes caught on my shoulder. “You’re hurt.”
He was worried about me? Of course, he was. His life was slipping away, and I was his only concern.
“Says the one with the gaping wound and a missing hand.”
My foot slipped on the jagged rocks, water cascading down the stone walls on either side of us, making everything slick. I struggled to support Samkiel’s body weight and run down the damned tunnel. I didn’t even know where we were. My only thought had been as far away as possible.
The world shook again, and I heard the roars of creatures I couldn’t even imagine. The realms were opening, and the entire universe was bleeding. We were so fucked. We took a step, then another, before Samkiel’s legs completely gave out.
No!
I caught him, his weight slamming me to my knees, but I refused to let him hit the ground. We had to keep going, but when I tried to lift him, he gritted his teeth, holding back a cry of pain. I stopped, afraid to move him, my eyes darting, searching in vain for somewhere safe. Who was I kidding? There was nowhere that was safe now.
His hair was several shades lighter as if the power ripped from him had also taken the color. He was so bruised and mangled, the skin around his eyes and mouth burnt, his nose broken and skewed to the side. So much blood soaked his council garbs that my heart clenched—my poor baby.
Samkiel rested his head on my shoulder, and a whimper escaped me. “You’re so warm, and I am so cold.” His voice sounded as cracked as the skin around his eyes.
“Gods don’t get cold.” I heard myself say, my voice broken and jagged as if a part of me was cracking wide open. I didn’t know what to do or how to heal him. Samkiel was the healer. I was a creature of destruction. His normally golden skin had turned that damned shade of gray I’d seen in my dream.
“We do,” he took a gasping, rattling breath, “when we die.”
The sound that escaped me was primal. A cry of fear, pain, and grief that any living creature would recognize.
“Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that. Where did they get you? Let me look. Let me help.”
I shifted beneath him, holding him with one hand and searching his body with the other. I ripped the sodden council garbs open, exposing his torso. My breath rushed out of me on a sob. A brutal, jagged cut dissected his abdomen, deep, devastating, and still bleeding. Dark spiderweb-like veins branched from the wound, the skin cracking and dry. Why wasn’t he healing?
