The pain on his face vanished as he chuckled. Tilting his head, he brushed his thumb across my lips.
My heart somersaulted.
Reese stared at my mouth, as though entranced. Then, his eyes flared as he came back to himself. He tore his hand awayand diverted his gaze. Clearing his throat, he swung his cloak around his shoulders and clumsily fastened the clasp.
I fluttered my lashes, forcing my eyes to stare at my lap. Being close like this was terribly dangerous for two souls between whom a relationship was forbidden.
"If I yell for help," I said quietly. "Do you think you'll hear it?"
"Even if I don't hear it.” Reese pulled the door open. "Brighid always says I have uncanny intuition."
His hand lingered on the knob, and his gaze searched my face. Part of me wanted him to stay. The other knew I had to learn to stand on my own, no matter how hard it might be.
I gave him a reassuring nod, and he reluctantly left, with a heavy sigh and an expression of regret.
With a soft creak, the door closed behind Reese. My head thudded against the pillow.
I sat there for a few minutes in the muted room. Worry coiled in my stomach, spinning faster and faster until it ached.
'You really do look just like her.'Alistair had said.
Who?
And Liam, was he alright? A drake could have cleared the walls before the scáde had fled; a dragon could have destroyed an entire block with a single breath of fire.
If Ferris had died, the king would rescind his order for Reese to keep me safe. The prince was just a kid, besides. He didn't deserve to die. To suffer.
The gnawing worry twisted and twisted until I could bear it no longer.
Grimacing, I rose from the bed and discovered I wore nothing but tights. The Aenir ladies would gossip endlessly about this. A solheart man beholding my bare skin? Scandalous.
A bloodstained hole ripped through the center of my tunic, but I had no other clothes on hand. Undignified sounds of pain escaped me as I carefully pulled it over my head. Wrapping acloak around my shoulders, I grabbed Cierthine and pushed out the door.
My footsteps echoed in the empty hall, but cacophonous noise greeted me outside the inn's doors.
Fires burned in the south. Thick smoke trails rose to the heavens. People ran past me—civilians, soldiers—I couldn't tell. My head was spinning, my vision blurred. Dragging my feet, I trudged toward the smoke, toward the southern gates.
Toward the place where the refugees had been refused entry into the city.
I stopped dead in the street when I saw the walls. They had crumbled, torn in twain. Blood painted the grey stone red, and bodies and dented helms stuck out from the rubble. A gaping hole now gave view of the world outside.
It burned. The scattered farmhouses and wagons had turned to charred husks. Some were still consumed by flame.
The monsters had attacked while Reese and I sought the scáde. We hadn't been quick enough.
I limped through the hole in the wall, trudging over corpses and fallen stone. The world hushed, save for the swirling flames and falling snow.
I'd saved the people of Gwynford. I was a fraud, a pretender, a fake. But through my lies, some of their people had managed to flee. They'd made it to Tsuyan, alive.
They had to be okay. They had to.
I stumbled off the rubble and tripped through the snow. Beneath the flames, it turned to muddy slush. The melted snow drenched my boots, but I didn't feel the cold.
All I could see was the gathering of tents outside the gate—broken, torn, destroyed.
Pressing a hand to my side, I stopped in the center of the refugee camp. A few bodies lay in a pile at the closestfarmhouse's door. They wouldn't have found salvation inside; its roof had been torn apart, and one wall had crumbled.
Scattered corpses littered the road. Another mound of bodies rose against the gates, no more than a bloody mess of body parts and viscera. Deep gouges raked down the gates and tore through their remains.
