Page 323 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

And then it was gone.

The world fell out from under my feet.

I stared down at carnage. A battle seared into my memory above all others. The battle I didn’t make it out of.

One second, I was holding the wall against a damn shadow dragon, and the next, I was watching the siege of Santa Bloom. As though from above. As though I soared over the city, watching it burn.

Swooping low, I spotted myself amid the chaos, Ally wielding flames like whips as she sliced clean through the neck of a cloaked demon. Beside her, I barreled ahead.

Knew to slow down.

Knew she was racing to keep up, to stay beside me.

Knew there was no faster pathway paved to the After than reckless blades fueled by anger rather than discipline.

Still, I freed my fury. Blow after blow, I bellowed and raged. Raged against the agony of a shattered mate bond, against the sting of rejection, against the crumbling blockade, against the demons taking my realm as their own.

Over that witch’s sword robbing us of Ansel.

Foolish. Shortsighted. My strength had never been my anger, and yet I’d let it fuel me.

“Look up,” I growled, circling from above as that blood wolf dove, and I stumbled under the blow. “Turn around,” I demanded as Moros materialized behind me. But I didn’t. Not until Ally’s agonized scream.

Too late. One step too late.

Someone was calling my name, here and not.

But I watched. Watched as I drove that blade home, so arrogant in my success that I missed Marlana entirely as she prowled forward.

“Move!” I demanded.

But of course, I didn’t. Moros stabbed me in the throat. Stumbled away.

And I watched.

Watched as I hit my knees, as Marlana batted away my feeble attempt to keep her from shoving it through my throat.

“Aren!”

Mags. Mags appeared a heartbeat after Ally incinerated the crawlers descending in a wall. I left her. After everything we did to crawl back to each other, I left her in the heart of a burning city.

You will lose she who you most loved.

“Aren!” I blinked, coming face-to-face with aqua eyes in the gray of thick mist, and soot-smeared skin, a cursed warning echoing in my mind, competing for my focus. “It’s not real. It’s the thicket!”

But it was real.

It had been real.

The thicket…

I sucked down a breath, choking on smoke as her hands found my face. Nodding, I fought to reinforce my shield, finding Brody on his knees, tears streaking the blood and soot caked to his cheeks. Jason was shaking his head, stumbling back a step as Rika sobbed at his feet.

Mags.

Only Mags remained upright.

“Good girl,” I rasped, seizing the shield where I’d evidently discarded it. “Get Rika. I have them.”