Page 129 of Thunder's Reckoning

And beneath it all, rising above like venom poured into a chalice, came the voice that split me in ways bullets never could.

Gabrial.

Smooth. Measured. Poison in silk. The same sickness I’d heard once before in a past I’d done my damndest to bury.

My pulse kicked hard.

We pushed faster, followin’ the sound, until the corridor twisted and ended at a door of oak thick enough to withstand storms, its surface studded with iron, its warmth radiatin’ into my palm when I pressed it flat. Heat pulsed from beneath like the breath of a dragon. Behind that door waited fire. And her.

I drew a breath deep enough to burn my chest, held it, then let it out slow.

And I kicked the goddamn thing in.

The crash cracked through the chamber like thunder, splinters flying, stone shudderin’ with the force of it.

The congregation broke.

Men leapt to their feet, fists tightenin’ like they were weapons worthy of us, eyes wild and bloodlit under the torch glow. Women gasped sharp, clutchin’ their hands to their mouths, some duckin’ low while others pressed their palms together and muttered prayers so fast they tangled into noise. A child cried out in the back, high and thin, cut off when a hand clamped over their mouth. The fire behind the altar roared higher, hungry, as though it knew violence had finally come to meet it.

And then I saw her.

Sable.

She knelt at the center of it all, draped in red, her veil slid just far enough to bare her face. Her eyes snapped to mine the instant the door burst, and for one suspended heartbeat the restof the chaos drowned out. The screams, the chantin’, even the roar of the flame, all of it blurred into nothin’ under the weight of that look.

She wasn’t broken. She wasn’t beggin’. She wasn’t even afraid. She was steady. Waitin’.

And somethin’ in me split wide open. Every ounce of fury I’d been carryin’ since they took her twisted with a rush of relief so sharp it near brought me to my knees. My chest hollowed out, my throat burned raw, and I swear I finally understood what salvation must feel like.

Her lips parted as if she wanted to speak, but she didn’t need to. I knew what she was sayin’ with her eyes alone.

You came.

And mine answered back without a word.

Always.

The spell broke when Gabrial spun on the dais, red robes slicin’ the air, his face twisted into a snarl too sharp to be human. His voice cracked through the noise, venom drippin’ from every word.

“You don’t belong here.”

I raised my gun, sight locked steady between his eyes, my voice low and lethal.

“I do now.”

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

ONE MOMENT, Iwas kneeling before the Flame,its heat curling around me like the breath of something ancient and waiting.

The next, the doors exploded inward—splinters flying, silence shattering with a thundercrack that ripped through the chamber like judgment.

Gasps broke the air. Screams scattered across the pews. Robes rustled as the congregation surged back, their perfect stillness finally cracking.

And then he was there.

Zeke.

Not a dream. Not a memory conjured by desperation. Not a ghost.