The screams from inside are cut off all at once, swallowed by the destruction.
A single, trembling whimper escapes from the rubble—and then, nothing.
Silence.
Dead. Just like that.
I don’t realize I’ve walked closer to the damage until I feel someone tug hard on my hair. “Eva, no!” Finnick hisses, not letting up.
Tears roll down my eyes at the abrupt loss of life. How many people were in that room? What would have happened if we arrived earlier instead of participating in the bonding ceremony? Is this my fault? It certainly feels like it.
“No, we have to go to them!”
“We can’t!” Finnick says from somewhere above me, still holding on to my hair. “We have to go.Now.”
The Nephilim snaps its head around—clearly, it heard Finnick. The sunken eyes, dead and full of malice, spot us. It opens its mouth, and a loud shriek comes out, causing Finnick to cower, covering his ears.
“Humannn,”a bone-chilling voice growls. It’s not human and sounds like multiple people speaking at once. “Deathhh to humannn.”
The pressure against my scalp suddenly lifts. I whip my head around and spot Finnick behind me, crouched low with his head bowed and both hands clamped tightly over his ears. His entire body trembles as he tries to shut out the piercing screeches echoing through the air.
“Finnick!” I shout, panic gripping my chest. His skin turns ghostly pale, and I watch in horror as his wings falter midair, their steady flutter turning to an uncoordinated stutter.
Then they stopcompletely.
He drops like a stone, his limp form plummeting toward the floor. I don’t think; I just react. Throwing my hands out, I lunge forward and catch his tiny body just before he hits the ground. “Finnick!”
“I’m okay…” he squeaks, but his ghostly complexion speaks a different story. “We have to go. Now.”
“But the others. They are in danger!”
Dilemma plays out across Finnick’s face. His need to keep me safe wars with the need to protect the sick.
The Nephilim pays little attention to our struggles and holds out its hand again. Inky black shadows cover its hand in pulsing power. The room fills with the smell of sulfur and death before heating up. The creature blasts power in our direction. My body acts on its own accord, and I dive to the side, cradling Finnick close to my chest. The blast of power misses me by mere centimeters.
“Run, Eva!” Finnick screams and tries to break free of me. “I’ll distract him, but you need to go.”
“I’m not leaving you!”
“Of course you would say that!” he growls, narrowing his gaze on me. “If you want to continue cooking delicious meals for me, you need to go.”
“And if you want to continue being my favorite taste-tester, you need to stop telling me to go,” I hiss, aware I’m being difficult and also not caring. I’m not abandoning him, especially now when he can’t even keep himself afloat.
Before Finnick can respond, the Nephilim lifts its arm, dark energy crackling in its palm as it draws power again. I try to dodge, but my foot catches on the unevenground, and I fall—hard. The impact knocks the breath from my lungs.
Pain explodes through my knees and elbows as they slam against the stone, and my shoulder takes the worst of it, twisting awkwardly beneath me. Finnick just manages to wriggle out from under my arm before I collapse fully, narrowly avoiding being crushed. Agony radiates through my body in sharp pulses, and I’m pretty sure I hear the Nephilim chuckle—a low, mocking sound that turns my stomach.
This is it.
I look death in the face. I think Finnick screams my name from behind me, but the world stops around me as everything moves in slow motion. Power burns bright in the creature's palm, demanding pain. “Deathhh to humannn,” it growls, the voice sounding like a million nails on a chalkboard.
I take a breath—maybe what will be my last.
A deadly blast leaves the Nephilim, aiming right at me. My last thought is of Niko and how devastated he’ll be. Maybe not because of my death, but rather what it means for him. That I failed him. Failed his kingdom.
I close my eyes, not wanting to watch my own death play out. Maybe that makes me a coward, but I don’t care. My body tenses, bracing for impact.
Except it never comes.
