Page 87 of A Queen’s Betrayal (Legends of Worldbinders #1)

Very few times in her life had Arenna felt a burning sense of pride like she did as she and Bramnen stood back to back, bolts of light shooting from his fingers while fire streamed from her own.

Druque bodies clicked and clattered as their claws struck stone, leaping from roof to roof, trying every maneuver to break through the stronghold they held.

Their snarls tore through the air, jaws snapping and talons clawing at any part of the duo they could reach. But every swipe of those monstrous hands was met with either light or fire, sword or knife.

Arenna had never felt so composed as she hurled flame after flame, pursuing the beasts with unerring instinct, honing in on the groans of their distorted bodies and the snarls in their throats.

She sought them out, felt their presence, and struck her mark every time. Hope blossomed inside her chest.

It became clear that druque didn’t fare well against fire—like most creatures—but these beasts seemed to genuinely fear it.

Those hit but not killed scurried away, whimpering and snapping their obscenely large mouths.

Yet each time, they returned or lingered on the rooftops, waiting for another chance to strike.

Arenna’s gaze flicked to the clock tower on her right, where a druque clung to the shingles.

It had no eyes, but the way it cocked its head and tapped its talons against the blue tiles made her feel as though it was watching, assessing, and waiting for the exact moment for her or Bramnen to slip up.

“There are too many of them,” Bramnen shouted over the chaos, flinging knife after knife, each one landing squarely in a d skull. She had no idea where he kept pulling them from. “We need to do something else.”

Panic tightened her chest as she shook her head.

Only a handful of beasts remained, but she and Bramnen were tiring, and the druque were relentless.

A blade to the skull seemed the quickest way to bring them down, though it only kept them down for a short while.

They burned like everything else, but they were vigilant and unnervingly strong.

Suddenly, the druque that had fallen—those with blades lodged in their skulls or hearts—began to twitch and groan. “Bramnen,” Arenna whispered, flames dancing around her wrists, ready for her next command. “They’re rising again.”

Light was sucked from the sky as Bramnen recalled his own power, turning to where Arenna pointed. A dead druque, arms cut off and head severed, was pushing itself off the floor, and began reassembling itself.

Her mouth dropped open in horror as she summoned more flame in response. “Blades won’t kill them. Decapitation won’t kill them,” she whispered.

“They can’t come back if they’re a pile of ash,” Bramnen seethed, calling yellow light to his dark hands once more. “Burn them.”

The beasts crept closer, snapping their drooling jaws as if they understood Bramnen and Arenna’s confusion. “There are too many,” she nearly croaked. “How can I—” A door creaked open to her left, barely hanging on its hinges as it swayed in the breeze.

The tavern!

Arenna leaned into Bramnen. “I need to get all of them inside Ironveil.” She placed a hand on his wrist, squeezing gently. “Then you need to go.”

His eyes snapped to hers. “What’s your plan?”

“Get to the front lines. Find the others.”

“Arenna,” Bramnen growled. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t. You can’t take them all on your own. You’ll burn out.”

“I’ll be fine,” she gritted through clenched teeth. “Promise me you’ll get to the front.” Arenna placed a hand on his chest.

Anger burned in his dark eyes. He tracked her movement but said nothing. “I will not leave you here to die. It’s not an option.”

“I wasn’t giving you one.” She slammed her mouth against Bramnen’s, his eyes widening in shock. Arenna used the moment to force a rippling capsule off her tongue and under his.

He vanished into thin air.

She wiped his saliva off her lips, hoping she had successfully commanded the capsule to ripple him to the place she had visualized.

Breathing steadily, Arenna sheathed her sword against her back. The druque were closing in, their movements calculated, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. She was surrounded by at least five, with the dead still rising—groaning and clicking back to life. Soon, there would be more.

She had one chance to do this.

One .

Her world slowed, and she could hear the rhythm of her own breathing as it expanded in her chest. The druque remained a fair distance away, terrified of the fire, but Arenna knew the second she recalled her power, they would attack.

One chance .

The moment Arenna snuffed her fire, the druque moved. They leaped for her, claws slashing, jaws snapping, and snarls filling the air.

She bolted for the tavern, pushing her aching thighs with every ounce of fight left in her blood. She cleared the entry door and raced up the stairs, not daring to glance back at how many beasts trailed behind her.

At the top of the stairs on the third floor, she stumbled but broke into another sprint, heading straight for the center of the room, drawing flames into her hands.

Fear nearly brought her to her knees. If she failed, this was it. She would be ripped to pieces, left to perish in the belly of the druque.

If Arenna failed, she would be dooming the world, the continents, and everyone who still lived.

So, that left her with only one choice.

I will not fail .

Druque poured in from shattered windows, clawing up the stairs, leaving deep talon marks in the old wood. Arenna stood in the center of the room like a glowing lantern, fire blazing in her hands and up her arms. As she expected, the creatures hesitated, wary of the flames she wielded.

Arenna smiled, and then she exploded.

The world around her moved in slow motion. Splintered wood and shattered glass drifted through the air in a whimsical dance.

Arenna was certain her feet were no longer touching the floor.

Orange and yellow wisps of hair floated before her eyes and above her head, as if she were underwater. Despite the chaos surrounding her—the tavern exploding and the druque incinerating—she felt calm.

At peace .

You have done well , something whispered from the deepest recesses of her mind. Now let go . The beauty of the voice alone should have told her it was not of this world. Perhaps not of this lifetime.

In an instant, the world snapped back to its normal pace, and the tavern finished exploding. Though it had been blown to smithereens, Arenna remained airborne where the third floor would have been.

Dust and ash fell like thick snowflakes, covering the remains of one of Emerlon’s oldest buildings. Nothing but the stone foundation it once stood on was left.

Defernus .

Embers slowly uncoiled from her body as the black of her hair returned and the red in her vision dissipated.

Arenna lowered to the ground, and as her feet touched down, she doubled over, clutching her stomach.

The absence of that soothing, ethereal power was devastating, shaking her to her very core.

Breathing was difficult with smoke filling her lungs, but when she looked around the space she realized her plan had succeeded. There wasn’t a living druque left in sight.

Releasing a long, painful breath, her gaze shifted to the gates of Emerlon, where Brookworth soldiers were now intermingled with Worden black.

Arenna groaned as she pulled a capsule from her pants pocket, every movement aching and strained. She slipped it beneath her tongue and envisioned the front lines, readying herself for another fight.