Page 13

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ERYSS

T he roar behind me is like thunder splitting the sky.

"Run all you want, purna. You’re still mine to punish!"

I don’t look back.

I can hear him closing the distance, the scratching of claws against stone, the heavy thud of steps pounding after me. Wings beat behind me. He’s flying.

Unfair!

The dagger is slick in my grip, my heartbeat hammering against my ribs like a trapped thing.

If I stop, I die. Simple as that.

I push harder, weaving between the stone pillars of the stronghold, my body screaming from the effort. Every bruise from the fight earlier protests, every aching limb begs me to stop.

I won’t.

The corridors open into the larger courtyard, the expanse of the training grounds stretching before me. Several gargoyles linger near the edges, their golden eyes flicking toward me as I sprint past.

"Mine!" The gargoyle chasing me snarls. “She’s mine!"

The others don’t move.

They watch.

They let it happen.

“Damn it!” I push harder, my feet barely skimming the ground. If I can make it to another building, maybe I can.

A shadow swoops over me.

Too late.

A solid wall of muscle and fury slams into my back, knocking me breathless. I hit the ground hard, my dagger ripping from my grasp, spinning uselessly across the dirt.

My skull rings.

I twist, lashing out, but the gargoyle is already on me, pinning me down with a knee to my gut, claws digging into my shoulders.

He grins down at me, all fangs and hunger.

"Not so fast, purna."

I snarl, bucking against him, trying to kick, trying to do something, but he’s too strong.

His fingers wrap around my throat, squeezing just enough to make my pulse jump against his palm.

"You don’t belong here," he murmurs, his grip tightening. "And I think it’s time we show everyone what happens when a purna forgets her place."

I see it in his eyes.

The way he wants to drag this out.

Make it slow. Make it hurt.

"You’re nothing," he continues, pressing his weight into me. "Nothing but a little human plaything. Our warlord might enjoy breaking you slow, but me?" He leans in, his breath brushing my ear. “I like seeing things shatter fast.”

I spit in his face.

His eyes darken.

The next thing I feel is pain, sharp and exploding down my ribs as he slams his knee into my side.

I choke on the impact, my vision flaring white. The gargoyles watching laugh.

"Throw her off!" one of them calls.

"Make her beg!" another sneers.

My attacker grins.

"You heard them," he murmurs, dragging me upright. His claws bite into my arm, pulling me toward the boundary of the cliff at the side.

I thrash, trying to dig my heels into the stone, but he’s stronger, his wings flaring wide as he lifts me, shoving me against the ledge.

"Beg."

My breath rips through my chest.

I glance down.

The drop is endless.

The jagged stone below waits like a gaping maw, eager to swallow me whole.

"Go on," the gargoyle breathes. "Say it. Say you’re weak. Say you’re sorry. Maybe I’ll be kind."

I meet his eyes and I smile.

"Drop dead."

His expression shifts. The amusement drains. The thrill of the hunt turns to something colder.

"Fine," he murmurs and he throws me.

The world vanishes and the wind screams against my skin, my body plummeting, weightless and helpless.

My magic.

Do something. The instinct kicks in, the power buried inside me roaring to life.

I reach for it.

I command it.

Nothing.

The ground rushes closer, the jagged rocks like teeth waiting to tear me apart.

I close my eyes.

The impact never comes.

A shockwave of heat and fury slams through the air, something massive barreling into me mid-fall, arms wrapping around my waist, wings snapping open.

The smell of fire, stone, and rage fills my lungs.

The world spins and then we stop.

I am no longer falling.

I am no longer dying.

I am in his arms.

Naranus.

His chest rumbles, golden eyes burning with something beyond rage.

Beyond control.

He lands with a force that shakes the ground, his claws dig into my skin and his breath seething.

The gathered gargoyles fall silent.

The one who threw me?

He steps back, something like fear flickering in his gaze.

Naranus lets me go. He drops me onto the ground, breathless, shaking.

He turns.

And he destroys him.

Naranus moves like a storm, his claws slicing through flesh, tearing, breaking, obliterating. The gargoyle who dared to touch me never even stands a chance.

By the time Naranus is finished, the challenger lays broken at his feet, his body twitching, his breath barely there.

Naranus does not look down.

He lifts his gaze, burning over the gathered gargoyles.

"She is mine. Mine in every sense of the word."

The words ring through the courtyard, final, absolute.

He turns to me then, his expression dark, wild, unreadable.

I stare at him, chest heaving.

Shocked. Not by the violence.

Not by the way he punished his own.

But because he saved me. And I don’t understand why.

What game is he playing?