Still, it did not matter. Another Rusan stumbled into her, shoving her back hard to regain his footing. Ariadne stumbled, her feet crossing and tripping up on the cobblestones, then she crashed to the ground.
A boot kicked the side of her head before she could curl in on herself and protect her head with her hands. Another soldier stepped on her leg, making her tuck it even closer to her body. Again and again, she was battered as she tried to roll back to her knees.
As soon as she managed to rock onto her shins and attempt to stand back up, another Rusan tripped over her in his frantic escape. They tumbled to the ground together. Ariadne twisted, yanked the blade from her boot, and stabbed it into his exposed side. She turned as he screamed, then released the handle again as yet another soldier tripped over them both, landing on her hard and pinning her to the ground. When he did not move again, she realized with horror that she had been trapped beneath a large Rusan man encased in metal armor.
Fuck.
Fresh panic rose in Ariadne’s chest, swelling painfully and stopping up the breath in her lungs. Everything had devolved so fast, in ways she had not expected. Separated from Azriel, trampled by soldiers who could not tell her living body from a corpse, and now stuck in a position from which she could not quite find her bearings.
Was this how she died? Crushed by dead bodies, lost to her friends and family amidst the carnage? Would they pile her amongst the deceased, never checking for a possible survivor, and burn her on a pyre set for soldiers?
No…Azriel would never allow anyone to stop searching for her. He would tear the city apart stone by stone to find her, even if she had passed on to the afterlife. Even if someone tried to assure him that she was forever lost, he would not rest until he uncovered her.
But would he find her in time?
Ten…
Heart pounding, Ariadne tried to inhale deeply, her arms pinned beneath soldiers and armor.
Nine…
The air left her in a rush—too fast, too fast.
Eight…
Lungs would not expand. She choked on the stench of sweat and death, the weight pushing down even more as yet another body collapsed over her legs.
Seven…
Exhale.
Six…
She squeezed her eyes shut, doing her best to shift bit by bit beneath the heaviness. Strong though she was as a Caersan, nothing could be done if her limbs were trapped.
Five…
The metal armor dug into her side, shoving the air out.
Four…
Her head spun. Each inhale was not enough, starving her blood of oxygen.
Three…
Somewhere above her, the pile was kicked again, punching her in the chest.
Two…
A weight lifted, and her lungs expanded fast, dragging in her first deep breath for far too long. She opened her eyes to find the soldier previously holding her down to be gone, and the swath of shadows that once covered the street to be receding.
One…
She choked and coughed, finally able to twist and bring her hands beneath herself to push off from the ground to see how she had been freed.
Standing over her, forcing the battle to break around them like a river crashing against a boulder, was a massive wolf. Rich brown fur shone in the sunlight, with blood dripping from the maw. Wide golden eyes swiveled down to blink at her as though asking if she was alright.
Luce.
