Page 116

“No,” I gasp, scrambling to my feet.

“Elara—”

I push past Ryatuv and stagger back the way we came, smoke stinging my eyes, lungs. I don’t make it far before I see him.

Z’leni!

He’s crawling through the wreckage, one arm wrapped around his middle. Blood streaks down his side. He’s dragging himself toward us. His face is smeared with soot, twisted in pain, but his eyes find mine.

“Elara,” he breathes.

“You’re hurt—” I say, dropping beside him.

“I’m alive,” he chokes out. “Are you okay?”

“I am now.” I press my hands to his chest, not knowing what else to do. I want to hold him, anchor him, keep him. “You fool, you should have run.”

“I had to...” his gaze flicks to Ryatuv, who kneels beside us, “protect her.”

I nod. I know, but knowing he did it for me doesn’t make the pain any less.

“Help me up,” Z’leni says, grimacing as he shifts.

Ryatuv and I lift him together, one on each side. His body trembles, every step a battle, but he doesn’t complain or even flinch. We move forward through the heat, toward the tunnel.

We retrace our steps but it takes time. The passage is choked with rubble, debris, and half-collapsed beams. Z’leni croaks for us to go down an alternate path. We squeeze through smoke and flame, climbing over cracked stone, and finally, finally?—

We break free.

The tunnel spills out into a ruined alley, the ceiling above barely visible through the thick smoke, but the flames haven’t reached this far yet. The air is cooler and stinks a whole lot less, making it easier to breathe at least.

Ash is falling, soft and slow, blanketing the world in gray. We stop, the three of us looking around in silent wonder that we’re even alive.

None of us speak for a long moment. We stand, panting, hearts racing, trying to remember how it feels to be alive. I look at Z’leni first.

He’s leaning against the wall, one hand pressed to his ribs, blood oozing through his fingers. Z’leni’s eyes are on the falling ash, but they flick to mine the second I move.

I cross the space between us and take his face in my hands.

“Thank you.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but I don’t let him.

I kiss him. Slow. Trembling.

His lips are cracked and dry. His breath tastes like smoke, but the second our mouths touch, something in me breaks open. All the terror. All the fear. All the hope I’ve buried deep just to keep moving.

Z’leni doesn’t pull away. He leans in, hands curling around my waist. And for a heartbeat, nothing exists but the two of us. When I pull back, Ryatuv is watching. Quiet, unreadable.

I step toward him. He doesn’t move.

But I see the tension in his jaw juxtaposed against the softness in his eyes. He thinks I’m choosing. That what I did means something final. I don’t know how to explain what I feel—not just for Z’leni, but him, too.

So I don’t try to explain. I step closer, touch his chest, and kiss him too.

His body goes stiff for a breath.

Then he lets out a quiet sound. Half growl, half sigh, and gathers me against him.