Page 153 of Lady of the Drowned Empire

I never wanted to see it again.

My entire body was covered in goosebumps. The night was freezing, but I also knew I was going into shock. My skin was somehow clammy, itchy, and freezing all at once. And every injury, every cut, the nahashim’s bite, made me feel like I was being torn apart.

“We’re leaving this place,” Rhyan said. “I’m going to take care of you. You’re alright. You’re alright. Just hang on. A little longer.”

“Why aren’t you traveling again?” I cried. “Why are we still here?”

“Sorry. I’m sorry. Don’t have much power. And it’s hard to use this far west. Just close your eyes. I’ve got you. It’s over now. No one is going to hurt you. Me sha, me ka, Lyriana.”

I buried my face against his cloak, desperate to inhale his scent, to feel his aura wrap me up and hide me from the world.

He kept running, his speed increasing with each step. The wind blew against my face and through my hair. A pack of wolves howled, and my heart leapt into my throat until the sound suddenly stopped. There was another tug on my stomach. Another jump. We appeared at the bottom of the mountain, and in the distance, there was a horse the color of moonstone—an ashvan—tied to an aged silver moon tree. Glittering leaves left tiny lights across its back.

Rhyan slashed the rope tethering the horse, and hauled me up onto its back before climbing up behind me, one hand steady on my waist.

He made a shushing sound at the horse as it shifted its body in agitation. Still gripping me, Rhyan rummaged through his bag and pulled out a cloth.

“Can you bend your leg for me, Lyr?” he asked. “The injured one?”

Grunting, I settled against him, pulling the leg up onto the horse’s back.

“There you go, just lean back against me.” Quickly, Rhyan wrapped the cloth around the wound and tied the ends together.

His body tensed behind me as noise sounded in the distance, getting louder with the wind. Soturi marching. They were close.

I shook my head. No. No more. No more Kormac. Not tonight. Not ever.

Rhyan slid his hand up my leg and helped me ease it back over the ashvan’s side so I could ride. He wrapped one arm around me, his palm flat against my belly, while the other took the reins. His thighs flexed, securing me into place.

Leaning forward, keeping my back pressed to his front, Rhyan stroked the ashvan’s mane.

“Vra,” he said, urging the ashvan to go. “Vra!” he called, tugging on the reins, his hand pressing into me. The horse whinnied, and took off.

I leaned back against Rhyan, tears falling freely, as he urged on the horse, ordering it to run faster. The surrounding trees passed by in a blur until the woods grew thicker, darker, the trunks and branches more closely knit together. But Rhyan wasn’t slowing down.

My stomach turned as he shouted again at the ashvan.

“Vraya! Ya!” The ashvan was racing now. “Volara! Fly! Volara!” He leaned forward, commanding the ashvan to go faster. “Mahar! Mahara!”

The ashvan picked up speed, its pace only possible through magic. Rhyan tightened his arm, as the horse rose up on its hind legs, and then we took flight, racing up beyond the tree branches, and then into the sky.

With a resounding neigh, blue sparks of light flashed beneath us with each step the ashvan took, galloping faster and faster at Rhyan’s urging.

“Mahara!” he commanded, his thighs tense around mine. His arm remained locked into place, holding me against him.

I gripped his arm, my nails digging into his sleeve. I’d been flying my entire life, but only inside the carriage of a seraphim. I’d never been on the back of an ashvan before. Being so exposed to the elements, knowing there was nothing beneath my feet, reminded me of the night I’d broken my blood oath, fallen from the carriage, and nearly plummeted to my death before Rhyan had saved me.

Rhyan leaned forward, his breath against my ear. “Alright?”

I sniffled in response. I was too tired, too wrecked, to speak.

“Just breathe, we’re almost there,” he said, his thumb rubbing up and down my stomach. His other hand turned the reins, guiding the ashvan. “We’re over the Cretanyan border,” he said. “We need to go back down. And I’m going to travel us back to our room at the inn.”

“Cretanya again?” I wanted to cry. This whole day had been a waste. Three days down, and we were still south of the capital. Nowhere near Glemaria. Nowhere near saving my sisters. And I’d almost been…almost….

“It’s okay,” Rhyan said. “We’ll make up for it. One thing at a time. We’re going down now. Hang on, Lyr.” His tone changed as he shouted out to the horse. “Dorscha,” Rhyan said, ordering the descent.

I closed my eyes, feeling the horse angle downward, the gallop slowing as we descended. My stomach flew into my chest. The moment I felt the hooves touch the ground, I exhaled, feeling Rhyan release me from his arms. One hand remained on my back, keeping me steady as he jumped down from the ashvan. I only realized then that our bags had been strapped to the horse and Rhyan had three swords because he’d recovered mine. He must have found it with the slain nahashim.