Page 203 of The Chains You Defy

“We lost.” Nayana’s soft voice echoed, stricken with grief.

“No. We can’t. We haven’t.”

A paralyzing thought I’d shoved away earlier slammed back into my mind. Reality had started to misbehave when the last Graigh had died.

Even I wasn’t deluded enough to believe that this was a coincidence.

Yes, this development was my fault.

There had been plenty of atrocities I’d committed during my existence, at least in the eyes of society. But I’d never imagined I would add setting the apocalypse in motion to my list of sins one day. Or genocide. Although, wasn’t extinguishing an ancient tribe insignificant compared to being the catalyst for the end of the worlds?

My arms tightened around Nayana. Even though we’d distanced ourselves from the anomaly, the Ivreain storm tugged at my hair, its intensity matching the turmoil inside my chest.

And then, with a visible shudder, the progress simply—halted.

“What—”

“I don’t know, Antas. Are we safe?”

“I have no idea what and why, but I would not go so far as to call anything about the wound in reality safe.”

Staring into the gaping maw between the worlds, I was tempted to approach the rift to investigate, but before I could set something in motion, I was distracted by a whimper coming from the tiny bundle in my arms. She was white as a sheet, paler than before, and gave the impression that she was fading. “Nayana.”

“I’m not feeling well.”

“We will build our camp close by, Dion. So we can keep an eye on the situation but will still be able to flee within a moment’s notice if the damage starts spreading again. But you two rest, and Dion—”

“Yes?”

“You will have a lot of explaining to do.”

Ugh. Time for a change of topic. “Hopefully, Fig, Thain, and Ireas will arrive soon. Especially Ireas.”

“Do not think I let you off the hook that easily, Dionadair Dorchadas Coroin De’An Scriosta.”

Grunting, I didn’t dignify him full-naming me with an answer.

We rode another few hundred paces, and I clung to the bundled woman in my arms as if she were my lifeline. I’d keep her alive through pure determination if I had to.

Antas picked a place to build camp, and we dismounted. Clutching Nayana, I stood around, whispering soothing words into her ear.

Five minutes later, a growl rumbled in my chest, warning my uncle to take back his offer to accommodate Nayana so I could set up our part of the camp. Instead, he sighed and unrolled our bedrolls as well.

Antas had just finished building a small fire, and I remained standing still with Nayana in my arms when the clapping of hooves reached my sensitive ears.

My gaze zeroed in on the one male I’d been waiting for, and as he dismounted, I hurried to him with a few big strides. “Ireas. What’s wrong with her?”

Confusion dominated the young medic’s face as he lingered still as a statue next to his horse, staring at me like a drooling idiot.

“Do your fucking job.”

“Be nice,” my tiny female coughed out, and I scowled at her.

When it came to her, everything and everyone else was unimportant. Lowering us down, I kneeled on the grass and shifted Nayana into a comfortable position.

“Oh my gods, Nayana. What happened?” Ireas crouched next to me and lifted his hand. As soon as his appendage connected with her forehead, a growl broke free from deep within my chest.

Had growling been a conscious choice? Not really, but warning another male off could never hurt. And threatening had helped—the youngling had withdrawn his paw fast enough to appease me at least a little.