Page 57 of Queen of Shadows and Ruin (The Nightfire Quartet #4)
FIFTY-SIX
Yasen clutched a sword, dripping with dark blood as he watched Zarya’s magic spread over the horizon. It shattered through the nairatta in a flurry of screams and agony. They dissolved under Zarya’s light until nothing was left but the barest wisps of smoke.
They hung in the air, suspended for several seconds before the breeze carried them away.
That was it. They were gone.
Zarya dropped her hands and fell against Rabin before they collapsed to the ground, both unconscious.
“Zee!” he cried, running over and dropping to his knees. He rolled her over onto her back while Row did the same for Rabin.
“They used a lot of magic after Zarya died,” Row said, feeling for Rabin’s pulse. “They’re alive, but they’re very weak.”
“Take them to the palace,” Miraan said, crouching next to Yasen. “They’ll see my best healers. I don’t know what happened, but I have a feeling we owe everything to them right now.”
He shouted orders to some nearby guards, and a few minutes later, a row of palace healers appeared with stretchers. They laid Rabin and Zarya out before spiriting them away.
“Will they be okay?” Yasen asked Row.
He shook his head. “Let’s hope so. They both went through so much.”
“They saved us?” Miraan said, his hand over his heart. “I…can’t even imagine what might have happened…”
“You have no idea,” Row said. “But yes. They saved us all.”
Everyone turned towards the torn-up landscape. The dead bodies and the scarred earth. But in the end, it could all have been so much worse.
“Let’s focus on cleaning up,” Yasen said. “Give everyone their due.”
“And then what?” Miraan asked.
“Then we figure out what’s next. We’ve all just been given a second chance. Let’s hope we use it more wisely.”
Over the next many hours, they collected their dead as the sun set and then rose again. When everything was finished, Miraan insisted Yasen rest in the palace, and he was too tired to argue.
Plus, he wanted to be near Zarya to keep an eye on her.
They entered the courtyard to silence and stared up at the sky-blue palace.
“I was sure I’d never see this place again,” Miraan said.
“It’s a miracle,” Yasen agreed.
“We still need to deal with my sister,” Miraan said, then paused. “She cannot rule Gi’ana after colluding with Andhera and the Jadugara to wipe out the vanshaj.”
Yasen studied the prince’s profile. “What will you do?”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure. I’ll be able to think clearer after some sleep.”
They crossed the courtyard and entered the palace, where they were greeted by a flurry of servants no longer wearing collars. Their expressions and the fact that they kept touching their throats suggested they were still understandably bewildered.
“Your Highness,” a woman said, pressing her hands before her heart and dipping at the waist. “You’re okay?”
“We’re fine,” he said and then turned to Yasen. “Come. You’re staying with me.”
Yasen followed him through the palace and entered Miraan’s wing.
With the chaos now behind them, Yasen recalled what Miraan had said before the fighting began.
He loved him, and Yasen…loved Miraan, too. He’d been trying to deny it, but nothing could be the same again once Miraan uttered those words. Yasen had never said ‘I love you’ to anyone before, and he wasn’t sure he was ready yet.
“I’m not expecting you to say it back,” Miraan said as he stripped out of his blood-soaked clothing.
Yasen blinked, giving him a confused expression.
“What I said out there,” Miraan continued. “I meant it then, and I mean it now. But I don’t expect you to say it back. I only want to know if there’s a chance that you’ll ever feel the same.”
Yasen exhaled a soft breath. How could he read his mind like that?
He took in the scope of Miraan’s room. The opulence. The riches. The sheer grandness of it. This man was a prince, and Yasen didn’t belong here. They’d freed the vanshaj from their collars, and it was time to move on.
“I think I should check on Zarya,” Yasen said, stepping back and pointing his thumb over his shoulder.
“Yas—” Miraan said, his brows drawn together.
“Get yourself cleaned up and get some sleep.”
“Are you coming back?”
“Um, I’m not sure.”
Then he spun on his heel and left, walking very fast. Gods, he was such a fool. Miraan didn’t see things clearly. When they’d been working with the resistance, they’d been equals of a sort, but here in the palace, Yasen was nobody.
He asked a servant where to find Zarya and Rabin and then made his way through the palace. Entering their room, he found them lying on separate beds with about two feet of space between them.
The curtains were closed, and the room was dark, and he approached on light steps, stopping between them. He studied their faces, relaxed in sleep, and laid a hand on Zarya’s wrist, squeezing it gently. She didn’t react, and Yasen’s stomach twisted with worry.
He looked around, noting a long divan against the wall that should be large enough to accommodate his height. He needed a shower and probably something to eat, but all he craved was sleep. He dropped onto the cushion and lay back with one arm tucked under his head and the other resting over his heart. He stared up at the ceiling as the sun began to set.
He couldn’t quite believe any of them were alive.
Zarya had saved them.
He smiled to himself, thinking of that day in the swamp when she’d leaped out of the bushes like a feral cat. She’d been reckless and impulsive, but she’d grown so much since then. The only thing she’d wanted was friendship and love, and just when she had it, it was nearly taken away.
But she’d obviously gone to almost fatal lengths to fulfill her destiny, and he was so proud of her.
No, Zarya had never been second best.
And Yasen, well, he was the luckiest asshole in the world to be her best friend.