"Old warehouse district. East side. But Ahrick—"
I was already moving, my feet carrying me toward the edge of the square before he could finish his sentence.
The sound stopped me.
Not the clash of weapons. Not the screams and the shouting.
Hoofbeats.
Dozens of them.
Thunder rolling across the wasteland, the rhythmic pounding of kuda hooves on hard-packed earth.
I turned toward the sound, and my breath froze in my chest.
They came over the ridge like a wave of bronze and fury—warriors mounted on galloping kuda. Strong. Impossibly graceful. Their skin glowing with subtle luminescence that marked them as something other, something ancient, something powerful.
The Welati.
And leading them—
Oh gods.
Merrilee.
She rode at the front, mounted on Starfield, her dark hair streaming behind her like a banner of war. She wore armor I didn't recognize—leather that looked like it had been made by the Welati, fitted to her body like a second skin. A blade hung at her side.
She looked like a warrior queen riding to war.
Our eyes met across the distance, and I felt it—that thread of connection pulling tight, singing with recognition and relief.
She'd come for me.
She hadn't run. Hadn't saved herself like I'd told her to.
She'd come for me and brought a fucking army.
The Welati hit Hewes's remaining forces like a hammer striking glass.
They were vicious. Precise. Utterly merciless. Their blades flashed in the morning light as they cut through the guards with brutal efficiency that spoke of a warrior culture thathad been refining their killing arts since before most species discovered fire.
No mercy. No hesitation. No quarter given.
Merrilee pulled Starfield to a halt beside me, the kuda's sides heaving, foam flecking its mouth. I saw her face—saw the fear and relief and fierce determination written in every line, saw the way her eyes tracked over me, cataloging injuries, making sure I was whole.
"You're alive," she said, her voice shaking with emotion barely held in check.
"You came back." The words came out rough, disbelieving.
"Of course I came back." She extended her hand, her jaw set in that stubborn line I'd come to know so well. "Now get on. We have a piece of shit to kill."
I grabbed her hand and swung up behind her, my arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her back against my chest. The bond flared—incomplete but undeniable.
Mine.
Mate.
The words echoed through my mind like a prayer, like a promise.
