A likeness to us.
Killable means mortal.
It sits hard in my gut—or is that the chain armour digging into me?
A guttural sound rushes through me.
Samick’s grip leaves my thigh, and I gasp with the fright—the horror that comes in a flash that he might abandon me. But then his hand smacks down on my jacket, tightens, and he hauls me off his shoulder.
I should strike the earth, but in the whirl of air around me, mid-fall, the piercing winds and battering rainfall, Samick pulls me against him.
My feet don’t touch the ground.
My eyes widen.
Because my chest is flush against his.
The breath from his nose tickles my cheekbone.
His boots still slam down on the muddy earth, running with the unit, but without breaking pace, he removed me from his shoulder to hold me against him instead.
I don’t understand—
Until the first strike of hail comes.
And it’s like a tree splitting.
The crack is unbearable. It thunders around me, splitting the darkness.
My shout is buried beneath the blast of it.
But the blast doesn’t quieten.
Like trees cracking and splitting all around us, more hail comes—and the sheer sound of it striking the earth is fucking terrifying.
A cry of fright hitches through me.
I wrap my legs around Samick, and if I wasn’t so panicked by the sudden battering of ice rocks from the sky, I would make a mental note of this feeling too much like latching onto a marble statue.
I throw my arms around his neck.
“Head down.”
That’s the only thing he says, and it feels like a command crafted from snowflakes and frost, lacing at my ear.
I drop my head and feel the pressure of his armour digging into my brow.
His hand comes down on my braid—fingers splayed, as if meant to be a barrier…
As if to take the brunt of hail that might come down on me.
My breaths shudder like they are being chopped on exit.
I stay latched on, tight.
Then I hear it.
Amongst the violence of the earth cracking, the pounding bootfalls, the piercing winds, there’s a strangled cry from the darkness.
