Page 170 of Scorched Earth (Dark Shores #4)

KILLIAN

Yet another earthquake shook the ground with such violence that Killian lost his footing, rolling on the steep slope before catching himself against a dead tree.

Every part of him was in agony, his flesh cut and torn in a dozen places, his skin sticky with blood, but he forced himself to his feet.

Blighters were racing up the pass to either side of where the river of blight had once been, now just a deep trench in the ground. A dozen paces away from him, Rufina was on her knees. “No!” she screamed, her eyes fixed east.

To Mudamora, which was now crisscrossed with empty trenches, the blight vanquished.

They’d done it. Malahi and Lydia had done it. Elation flooded him, but it was short-lived.

He could feel Rufina’s rage. Feel her wrath.

Her threat.

For while the blight had been drawn out of the land, it seemed it still flowed in the veins of those that it had murdered. For blighters beyond count were running this way, all headed toward Deadground.

And Lydia.

Killian climbed after Rufina, desperation burning in his chest because she would go after Lydia for revenge. Would try to hurt Lydia for her part in destroying the blight, and he didn’t know if he could stop her.

Picking up his blood-slicked sword, Killian climbed a few more steps and then fell to his knees.

“Get up,” he ordered himself. “Keep going. Keep fighting.”

The world was growing darker, snow falling thicker, and his fingers were numb from cold. From blood loss. But Killian made it to his feet and climbed.

Only to trip again, the ground rushing up to meet him.

And everything went dark.