Darkness scattered, rolling along the ground, up the trees. His veins darkened with the power, and death sang through him.
Clearing a cluster of dense trees, he found her, and the scene made him come to a halt.
Several bodies were on the ground, blood pooling, some with weapons still in hand. Some had arrows protruding from their backs, while others had met blades. A harvested deer lay nearby.
What the fuck had happened here?
Kailia was standing in the center of it all, two black daggers in her hands. Her chest was heaving, and her cloak was nowhere to be seen. With another scream of what Cethin could only describe as manic agony, Kailia dropped to the ground. Her daggers within reach, she clawed at her boots, ripping at the laces and the buckles.
“Fucking Fates,” Cethin cursed under his breath, her frenzied movements enough to break him out of his shock.
He rushed to her as she pulled the first boot free, ducking to avoid yet another blow to his face as she threw it away from her as hard as she could.
“Kailia,” he said sharply, dropping to his knees beside her. “Kailia, you need to— Are you hurt?”
There was blood splattered all over her skin and clothing, and her tunic was as shredded as it had been the night Razik had picked her up. Her fingernails were cracked and broken from clawing at her boots, but there was also blood that was fresh and still flowing, as if she had an actively bleeding wound somewhere.
“Kailia, let me look,” he said, reaching for her tunic. She was still thrashing, trying to get her other boot off. The erratic movements made her tunic rip more, and that was definitely a stab wound in her abdomen.
“Shit. We need to get you?—”
But he didn’t get to finish the sentence because he’d instinctively reached for her, instinctively tried to scoop her up to Travel her to a Healer. If he’d thought she was manic before, it was nothing compared to her actions now.
Another scream sounded, this one full of agony. She twisted in his hold, falling back to the ground face first.
“Kailia!” Cethin barked, eyes wide as he reached for her again. “It’s me, Kailia. It’s Cethin!”
But she clearly couldn’t hear him over her hysteria. She was stuck in a fight-or-flight mindset, and she was clearly going to fight.
Her magic swirled around her. Her body even flitted in and out of view, but she didn’t go anywhere. She cried out again as her knees hit the blood-soaked ground once more. Once more her ashes swirled, and once more she remained in place.
He needed to get her out of here. Get her to Niara, who could make her sleep again and then heal her wound that was still gushing blood. It had undoubtedly been made worse by her renewed thrashing.
Knowing it was going to make matters worse but not having any other choice, Cethin lunged for her. His arm looped around her waist, pulling her into him. Her front pressed against his chest, and he tried to press his other hand to the stab wound, but she twisted yet again, breaking his hold.
“Godsdammit, Kailia,” he growled, catching her as she tried to crawl away.
Then he was releasing her fully as searing agony ripped through his side. Curses fell from his lips, and he looked down to find a dagger shoved into his side, right next to the broken ribs.
One ofherdaggers.
She’d fucking stabbed him.
Again.
Yanking the blade free, he slid it down his boot before refocusing on his future wife. Ashes and smoke were once again swirling, and she was once again not going anywhere.
“What in the fuck?” he heard someone yell. It sounded like Bram. Then there was the sound of several pairs of boots running. The Cadre had finally found their way here, but there was nothing they could do. There was nothing any of them could do other than try to hold her down until she came out of whatever this was.
But there was something he could do.
With one hand pressed to his side to staunch his own bleeding, he lifted his other arm. Focusing on her power, he closed his fist, cutting it off from her soul.
A different cry came from her as she clutched at her chest, curling in on herself. Razik stepped forward, bending down to grab her, but Cethin growled, “Don’t touch her.”
Razik’s lip curled back. “This isn’t the time for your?—”
“Go fetch Niara and meet us at the estate,” Cethin interrupted. “It’s an order from your king.”
