“Basic defense,” she replies. “I know how to hold a weapon—daggers and swords—and how to defend against a blade’sstrike. I know how to dodge a fist, and I’m a fast runner. But I have very little offensive training. Escape was always the goal.”
“Well, then. We’ll need to do something about that.” I lower my lips to her earlobe, pressing the lightest kiss to her soft skin.
“Good. As soon as possible.” Her reply is firm, strong, but again, I can sense the exhaustion that lies beneath her outer resilience.
The temptation to draw on my Lethian power to soothe her is strong, but even within this white expanse, I can’t start using it again.
Iker may want my throne and the shapeshifters might want my head, but the general population tolerates me as long as they believe I will never again use my Lethian power.
Not like I once did.
When I stepped out from the Alak-Teah this morning, it was a deliberate step away from my power. As if I could separate from it. A mental barrier fell into place. I need to pretend my Voice has stayed back there.
Fighting to remain monotone, I whisper, “Be easy, Thyra. Strategy is everything.”
Chaos will not control me.
Loss will not control me.
No more.
She turns into my touch, her eyes closed. “You have a plan.”
“Of course,” I reply. “I’ll kill anyone who comes near you.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Maxim
The vampyrs are following me, and this time, I can’t use my fire against them.
But that isn’t my only problem.
As I push myself to move faster across the rocky ground on the southern side of the bloodlands, the pull in the other direction—the pull toward Thyra—is fucking unbearable.
At the corner of my eye, I imagine I can still see the thread that connects me to her, its power stronger with every passing minute.
Until I deliver Aeliana Vividari to my people, I can’t resume my pursuit of Thyra.
Antony’s eagle, the giant blue beast named Azul, follows me from a distance, keeping himself to my left.
In the opposite direction are the vampyrs, creeping more quickly after me and now gaining on me.
The barren landscape has cooled after I turned parts of it to lava last night, only a faint glow brightening the sky in the distance. Not nearly hot enough to deter any vampyr now.
It seems the dark creatures have realized I’m fighting myflames, determined to subdue my fire, even if they won’t realize it’s because I can’t risk burning the woman I’m carrying.
Aeliana is breathing steadily but hasn’t otherwise stirred within the dragon’s hide. Not that I thought she’d wake up.
As far as I’d heard, she died seventeen years ago when a vampyr tore the Vividari tribe apart. The last thing I expected, when I ran into that tunnel in the bloodlands, was to find her curled up against the side of the tunnel wall.
The look on Antony’s face when he realized I was holding his mother…
Fuck, it was painful to see.
I don’t doubt his determination to keep her safe. The same way he was protective of Thyra, doubting my ability to keep my fire under control if I were to seize her.
He’s right.
