Page 84 of Ruled By Fire


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Oh, no. Absolutely not. You do not get to take him and just walk away.

I’m moving again. Sprinting toward the eastern path, boots slipping on wet stone.

“Mara, no!” someone shouts behind me. Andrei, maybe. Or Nicolae.

I don’t care.

My chest screams as I run. The old crash injuries lighting up with fresh pain. Something pulls wrong in my shoulder—muscle or tendon, doesn’t matter. I push through it.

K chose this. Chose capture so I wouldn’t die.

I’m not letting that be the end.

Hands grab me from behind. Strong. Rough.

“Let me go!” I twist violently, almost breaking free.

Andrei’s voice, close to my ear: “You cannot—”

“The hell I can’t!” I wrench my arm, feel his grip slip.

Then someone else has my other arm. A third person blocks my path forward.

Not gentle. Not ceremonious. Just practical restraint from people used to hauling livestock.

“Let me go, dammit! I’m not a freaking goat!” I snap.

“Stop!” Dragana’s command cuts through my rage. “Child, you will die before you crest that ridge. We saw what they carried. The weapons.”

I kick backward. Connect with someone’s shin. They grunt but don’t release me.

“Cool,” I snarl. “Then I’ll die sprinting instead of sitting here doingnothing.”

“You’ll be a body in the snow before dusk,” Andrei says bluntly. Still holding my arm, but his voice is gentle. Pitying. “No weapon. No idea where they went. They had vehicles waiting below. You understand?”

I hate him for being right.

Hate myself more for stopping.

My legs give out. If they weren’t holding me, I’d collapse.

The fight drains out of me all at once, replaced by something colder. Heavier. As if the strength is draining from me.

They release me slowly, ready to grab again if I bolt.

I don’t. Just stand there, staring down the path where K disappeared.

Gone.

Taken.

Because of me.

But if they came for me, why did they take him instead?

The thought nags at me.

Something warm trickles from the corner of my mouth. I touch my lip—split, bleeding sluggishly. Must’ve happened during the fight. An operative’s rifle butt or elbow, I don’t remember.