“You know Godsdamned well we needed to be here,” the soturion snarled, his aura suddenly full of fire. It blasted from his body, warming the room. “That they need a place to come to when it’s over.”
“It is over! And they’re not here.”
“Your point?” he asked.
“I think you know that we’re waiting for something that isn’t going to happen,” I said. “We all are. But it’s so obvious. Lyr should have been back by now.”
“You don’t know that. You have no idea what kind of timeline they’re on. How fast they can move or what obstacles are in their path,” Dario said. “She left it to me to keep you safe and that’s what I’m going to do until she walks through that door. Until she’s back here—and Rhyan with her.”
“And if she doesn’t come?’ I asked, my voice going cold.
His aura flared, like a burst of fire. “You think I haven’t thought of that possibility?” he yelled. “That I haven’t been running a thousand outcomes for them and us in my head as we waited? They could be delayed for a thousand reasons, they could be on their way now, injured, needing just a little more time.”
“Or they might not be coming back at all,” I spat.
Dario snarled.
“She’s right,” Meera said, her voice cold. Her lip trembled and I could feel my own terror for Lyr ramping up. Going into the Palace, even armed, even ready to lose it all—still meant losing.
I felt callous with what I had to say, because Gods, the thing I’d most wanted when I’d been taken was Lyr. To see Lyr. I missed her so fucking much. But I’d learned by now, you just don’t get what you want in life. And this was no different. We had to accept reality. Because if Lyr had been captured, if Rhyan had been stripped—what chance did we stand? It was only because of them we were free to begin with, and we had just barely made it. If they’d fallen …
“Any events in the arena would be long over by now,” Meera said. “Whatever did or didn’t happen is done. And Imperator Hart knows where we are. We’re on borrowed time.”
“I’m not leaving Lyriana behind,” Dario said. He moved toward the small table where we’d had our meals, and slammed his hand down on it. “Or Rhyan.” His voice cracked.
Meera shook her head, moving toward him. “No one is saying that,” she said. “Do you think I want to? That I can stomach leaving my sister? Not knowing where she is or if she’s safe? That I’m not losing my fucking mind right now? You think I’m not just as worried about Rhyan as you are?”
“No one is suggesting that you’re okay with any of this,” Aiden said coolly.
“No,” Dario said, stepping back into the middle of the room. He turned his head slowly, his dark eyes meeting all of ours, “You’re all just saying that it’s time to go. That we give up and leave Lyriana and Rhyan behind. Well, we’re not. Because that’s not how this works.”
“What do you think this is?” I yelled. “Protocol training at the academy? There’s no turion for you to answer to, no chainof command to follow. Right now, there are no rules. Except for one. Survive!”
“If Rhyan were here,” Meera said quietly, “he’d say the same thing.”
“If Rhyan were here,” Dario gritted through his teeth, “we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” His eyes reddened. “We’re waiting. Just a little longer. You don’t know how strong he is, or Lyr. They’ll be here. He’ll be here,” he said again. “He has to.” But he no longer sounded convinced.
And then, as if in answer, there was a sharp knock on the door.
Dario rushed forward to check the peep hole. “It’s Cal.” He unlocked the door, cracking it open just an inch as he examined the hall. Satisfied, he pulled the old man, one half of the elderly couple who owned Auriel’s Flame, inside the room.
“Any news?” Dario asked, his voice now filled with desperation. “Rhyan? Lyr?”
“There’s a rider downstairs,” Cal said somberly, his white bushy eyebrows furrowed. “A soturion with the seal of Lady Kenna Hart. She bid me show this to you as proof. She has urgent news from Numeria—but she was ordered to deliver it directly to you, and only you. If you verify her seal, I’ll send her up.”
“Show me,” Dario said.
Cal nodded, placing a small silver ring in his hand.
Dario’s face hardened, his jaw clenching before returning it. “Bring her.”
A moment later, a soturion in the dark leathers of Ka Hart appeared in the threshold of the door. Her black hair was braided down her back, but dozens of wisps had escaped, and even had leaves stuck to them, like she’d ridden an ashvan here as fast as she could. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and there was a tear in her green soturion cloak.
“Brianna,” Dario said.
Aiden shot across the room as well.
“What happened?” Dario asked. “Where’s Rhyan?”
