“You can’t control your power when you’re angry?”
“Do you always ask so many questions?” he grits out, exasperated.
“Maybe.” I smirk. I’ve managed to shake his stoic attitude—annoyed him, even—and it pleases me more than it should.
“Why do you want to marry my brother?” he asks, his gray eyes unnervingly pinned on me.
The question takes me by surprise.
“I don’t. But I’ll do anything to protect my people.”
He doesn’t answer immediately, his eyes still riveted to me. I open my mouth, poised to ask what he finds so fascinating about my face, but the words never leave my throat.
A bone-rattling explosion rocks the carriage. I’m thrown against the wall as the carriage tips onto its side, my head slamming against the window. I’ve barely caught my breath when something massive crashes into me—Zevayr—forcing all the air from my lungs.
A mutteredshitis all I hear through the pounding in my skull.
“Stay here,” he commands, his face barely an inch from my own. And then his weight on me is gone. I watch, still gasping for breath as he punches the carriage door open and climbs out. It slams shut behind him, muffling the mayhem outside.
The panicked shouts of soldiers, the frantic whinnying of horses, the dull clanging of steel. The carriage is dark and cramped, and the walls close in, a heavy weight pressing over my lungs.
I can’t stay in here.
Another explosion rings out, so powerful that my teeth clatter in my skull. More screaming, but fainter this time. I can’t tell if it’s because men have died in the second blast or because the shrill ringing in my ears drowns everything out.
But the next sound is bone-jarringly clear.
The deafening crash of thunder.
It’s so loud, so close, as if a storm cloud hovers directly above the carriage. Anotherboomrattles the air, and any thoughts of leaving the carriage vanish. My heart thrashes, desperate to tear free from my chest, while my breath stumbles in short, useless gasps.
Rain pelts the carriage, sudden and angry, its harsh staccato mocking me. I’m frozen in place, back pressed against the side.
Tides take me, I’m useless.
It’s just a storm. It’s just a storm. It’s just a—
The carriage jolts upwards before landing back down with a heavy crash, and my head knocks against the wall a second time. The world spins, and I swallow back the bile rising in my throat.
My power thrums inside me, familiar and welcome, surfacing unbidden to my palms. Before I can soothe the throbbing in my skull, sharp thuds echo across the exterior of the carriage, each one cracking higher.
As if someone is climbing it.
The door is flung open, letting in light and rain andsomething else,before it swings back shut with a slam. A soft sizzling echoes from somewhere near my head. Outside, another explosion tears through the chaos.
By the Tides.
The hissing sizzle grows louder, and with sudden clarity, I realize what thesomething elseis.
Forcing the door open, I all but hurl myself out. I’m immediately soaked in the downpour, barely able to see through sheets of freezing rain. Soldiers swarm around me, slipping on ice and water. I do, too, landing hard on my knees.
A blade nearly nicks me as I crawl away from the carriage with a bomb inside it. My hands glow, shaky but ready. I scan the clearing, ready to heal or hide, but I can’t make sense through the chaos. All of the men are clad in dark leathers.
Which ones are Zevayr’s men?
It must be the Rebellion that attacked us.
I squint, trying to make out the Arbinji crest, but there’s too much movement, too much rain.
