Cassandra was pulled from her feet, enveloped inside a pair of powerful arms and a cocoon of black feathers, torrents of wind a deafening rush around her.
“Don’t.” Tristan released a shuddering sob against her neck, his fingers curling against her back as muddled shouts and the whine of stun pistols echoed through his shield. “Don’t you fuckingdare, Cassandra.”
“Tristan,” she whispered, pulling back to cup his cheek. “I can’t let them die for me.”
“Iwill die if I lose you,” he croaked, crushing her palms against his thrashing heart. “I’m already dying.”
“You’re not.” She shook her head. “Youwon’t.”
“Don’t let him take my life away from me a second time,” he pleaded, his voice fracturing. “Not after I just found it again.”
“Listen to me.” She poured everything she felt for him into her fierce gaze. “I was trapped before I met you, using my vows as an excuse to cage myself. Youfreedme, Tristan. Broke me out and showed me all the messy, imperfect joy this life has to offer. Showed me what I want to fight for.You.Us. We are unbreakable, remember?”
His face crumpled as his shoulders carved forwards. “Cassandra, I lo—”
She stopped his words with her fingertips. “Don’t say it now, or I won’t be able to…” Her voice broke as she gripped the back of his neck and pressed their foreheads together. “Say it when we find each other again.”
She lowered her hand and claimed his mouth, salty tears mingling on their tongues as he crushed her body against his. He dug his fingers into her ribs as if he wanted to scoop out her heart and keep it for himself.
“You have to let me go,” she whispered against his lips and his agonized growl blew back her hair. “Let me go,ma’anyu.”
The shield dissolved with a pop as Tristan sank to his knees.
“STOP!” she bellowed, pushing past his wings.
Several of the soldiers on the stage aimed pistols towards her and Tristan, while a few maintained their upraised swords above the Sisters’ heads. They all glanced towards Eamon, who stilled them with a hand and a victorious smile.
Cassandra had barely stepped away from Tristan before two more soldiers seized her, their hands iron vises around her arms as they marched her towards the Emperor.
Tristan’s wind exploded from behind her, rattling the Vicereine’s feathers and nearly tipping the podium. He rushed for his brother, a piercing arrow of black wings and fury, arms outstretched and aimed for Eamon’s throat.
One of the two remaining Vasilikans whipped a length of Nessite chains from behind his back, holding it in a leather gauntlet and flicking it towards Tristan. The glowing, olive metal wrapped around Tristan’s neck and as soon as it touched his bare skin, he seized and crashed to the stage.
The Vasilikan hauled Tristan to his feet and his eyes darted madly, a prisoner in his own body.
The Sisters blubbered and Borea’s head sagged as Cassandra kicked and flailed at the two soldiers dragging her onto the stage. A useless struggle against their superior strength, but she’d be damned if she went down without putting up at least some semblance of a fight.
“Here she is, Thalenn!” Eamon boomed to the crowd. “Your Savior Sister!” He spat the words as if they singed his tongue.
Tears pricked Cassandra’s eyes as she scanned the frothing crowd, shocked and disheartened by the furious animosity reflected back at her.
She’d been trying to save them.
Why couldn’t they see that?
All her efforts had been fornothing. All the robberies, all the reversed obliviations, and she’d still ended up here. Not a blazing icon of defiance, but an ineffectual gnat crushed beneath the Empire’s boot.
Her gaze caught on an older couple within the crowd. Two of the few faces not twisted in hatred or anger.
Shefton looked solemn, pained, as he gathered his wife in his arms. Unwilling to join in the jeers but helpless to stop them.
Mona’s tear-streaked face pressed against her husband’s shoulder, unable to watch.
Cassandra broke, dipping her head. Waiting for Eamon to pronounce her fate.
“Mistress Fortin will be sent to Tartarus with the other traitors to the Empire to await the judgment of the Council,” Eamon proclaimed. “Do you have anything you wish to say? An apology, perhaps, to the many fine citizens you have betrayed with your bold actions against me?”
That fire continued to lick at her back, the second entity within her distending her skin. Begging to be unleashed.
