“You wouldn’t say that if you knew half of what Tar?—”
I squeeze his heart with the ropes of fear I have strung around it. “My brother’s name will never again pass by your lips. And if you ever do choose to utter it, I will proudly claim responsibility for stopping your heart once and for all.”
He nods slowly as I force out a breath. “I will allow you to live if you are capable of conducting your role without mentioning me or my Guards to His Majesty, as well as changing what you call the creature stalking the forest. Truce?”
“Truce,” he chokes.
I release my magical hold on him at the same time as that crow caws again. My heart hammers when it begins screeching while bobbing its head over the branch where it perches. Then I hold my breath when it flies toward me, chirping with urgency as it lands on the stage at my feet. I stare down where it flicks its tail, then points its beak in the direction of the forest, all while cawing.
I turn toward the pines and my whole body shudders from the guttural, piercing roar emanating from the treeline. The sound is so powerful, it shakes the branches, and gooseflesh ripples up my skin when the beast capable of making such a terrible sound roars once again.
Wyrth pivots to look back with a darkened expression, as his eyes cast around the perimeter of the forest. Then, without warning, he hurries down the small set of stairs with his Guards and Imelda following after.
My interim Guards stand still in their positions as I turn to face the soldiers, with the witches so deftly avoiding my eye contact as they look anywhere but at me as I scan over them. Each soldier stands at attention as Wyrth makes some unfamiliar gesture, then brushes past them with more stealth than an injured sorcerer should be capable.
Imelda pauses and tilts her head to the side, locking her big brown eyes on mine. Her magic flows toward me in a tendril of sympathy before she faces away to trail after her charge.
My chest constricts as I stare at the soldiers, then over to their assigned witches. All of whom didn’t so much as flinch when Wyrth and his protectors forced their way in. I rise on the balls of my feet and seek any sign of their uniforms, or even the blur of Wyrth’s graying hair. Anything to indicate he lives after seeking the creature capable of that screaming.
I shift my focus back to the soldiers whose purpose is to prevent anyone from passing by them. Who didn’t so much as utter a word, nor hold out a hand to stop him. Who now spin to face the forest in eerie synchronicity, with each soldier and witch lifting the same foot, then the other as they march as one into the forest.
“Imperial Guard Roy, what?—?”
My interim force Guard’s eyes appear just as glazed over.
I rear back, startled, as every one of my interim Guards raises the same foot as the soldiers had before, marching away with the same gait. Appearing as if they are being summoned by some unknown entity, directing them to follow all who have been lost to the pines we have been warned to avoid our whole lives.
Varic.
The stairs creak and groan, then the dry grass crunches underfoot as I step into the clearing. My chest constricts as the last black uniform is swallowed by the forest, with no more soldiers left patrolling this side of the tree trunks.
My pulse slows as I trace every shape around me, hoping to find any other living being. The irony of having wished to be left alone all my life now feels nothing but terrifying, and I yearn for someone to provide me with answers, or at the very least the protection of more than one being's magic.
The edges of my vision crowd in as I cast my eyes skyward, desperate for any sign of my Guards and their Dragons—only to see nothing but slow-moving cloud cover. I frantically scan from the ground to the sky as I drift toward the dens where the only other beings who could keep me safe from the hybrid are the beasts resting within them.
A roar courses down from the sky, and my heart constricts when Minea’s bright emerald scales break through the gray mist, displacing the clouds as he soars overhead.
“Meet us in the clearing,” Minea’s voice echoes inside my mind. “We’re coming.”
Chapter Seventy-Eight
Jump
“Run,” Minea commands.
I toss my gaze back to the trees to ensure none of the Guards have come looking for me and release a breath when there are no other beings, needing to avoid any sort of interference now that I push off the ground and rush ahead. My muscles sting as I allow fear to propel me, then slow, regardless of the terror coursing through my veins.
Fuck the Emperor and his forcing me into a life of low activity. This may be the worst possible moment for it to finally catch up with me.
I stumble and my muscles tense. I can’t do this.
My heart hammers and it’s obvious I cannot possibly jump high enough to reach the back of a low-flying Dragon.
Sharp pain radiates up my legs as I stagger forward, trying to reach where they might come close to landing. The veins on either side of my neck throb as the vibrant green Dragon coasts lower, requiring me to shift my trajectory as he hovers farther away than expected.
Shuddered breaths spill into my chest as I sprint toward them.
Varic pushes off Minea’s back to sit, having just extracted his arms from the harness. “Keep going! You’re doing great!”
