Page 25 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

...My fingers fumbled over abandoned fabric, finding only cold sheets where her body should be.

Groggily, I called, “Ceana?”

Silence.

I cleared my throat. “Ceana?”

Dread pooled in my stomach like tar.

No creak of wood. No hum of her voice as she drew.

Only emptiness.

Throwing the threadbare blankets from my sweat-slicked skin, I padded across the floor. My voice cracked with panic. “Ceana?!”

A blur of color. A doorway. And then⁠—

The slick warmth beneath my foot.

I looked down. A trail of blood snaked down the hallway. Ice clamped around my spine. My breath turned ragged.

Snatching a blade, I crept forward, my heart a relentless drum in my ears.

Thump-thump. Step. Thump-thump.

A pained whimper from the hearth room turned my vision red.

I pressed against the wall, edging around the corner⁠—

And froze.

Thump-thump.

Ceana.

My Ceana.

Pinned to the table. Bound and gagged.

Six men, their hulking forms outlined by the fire’s roaring glow.

Her eyes fluttered open. Landed on me.

She shook her head. Imperceptibly.

No time.

No time to fetch reinforcements.

Her blood was pooling.

The tallest man turned, a leather mask concealing his face, a red-hot iron glowing in his grasp.

Ceana began thrashing.

I launched forward.

I was sliding my blade across the first man’s throat when her muffled scream split the world in two.