Page 57 of Wrath Of Suns And Shadows (The Osparia #2)

Chapter Forty

Ace

P ain. It was a searing, blinding pain, eclipsing all reason as I lay amidst the rubble of what was left of the catacombs. The deafening clash of rock against crystal had subsided.

Emelyn had been pulled into the depths of Crow’s Hollow, unable to get to me before it was too late. Agony lanced through me as I attempted to move. A boulder had crushed one of my wings. A glimpse downwards confirmed another fear—a jagged bone protruded from the flesh of my leg.

I was trapped here.

The silence of the cave was a living thing, thick and heavy, wrapping around me like the shroud of night. But then someone broke the silence—a voice, chillingly familiar, cut through the stillness, its sharpness making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up despite the pain that racked my body.

“Report,” she commanded, the single word reverberating off the jagged walls.

The soldier’s voice, strained with the recitation of their losses, pierced the silence that followed Valla’s command. “They retreated, but the gates took a bit of damage. The Peacebringer is gone. They got her.”

Emelyn was safe. That was all that mattered.

Relief surged within my chest, and despite the agony that writhed through every fiber of my being, I felt an immense weight lift from me. Tears, hot and stinging like embers against my skin, welled behind my closed eyelids.

The sound of footsteps approached, the rhythm growing steadily louder. Then, calloused hands—rough from battle—clawed at the debris I was under. With each movement, pain lanced up from my mangled wing and shattered leg.

Looking up through a haze of pain, I stared into the face of Valla.

Her eyes, dark and ruthless, bored into mine with an intensity that spoke of the wrath she barely contained.

The rage that pulsed off her was palpable.

Yet, her lips curled into a smile—cruel and cold as the edge of a blade—as her soldiers snapped enchanted chains around my wrists.

I ground my teeth, the pressure a futile defense against the searing agony that raced like wildfire through my veins.

Valla’s soldiers gripped the chains with merciless efficiency, hauling me across the jagged ground.

Each stone and crystal that dug into my battered skin was a separate agony, but none so keen as the pain from my wing and leg, which dragged behind me.

“Look at you,” she cooed mockingly, striding alongside me as if she were inspecting some beast. Valla stopped and crouched beside me, her face close to mine.

Her breath was warm on my cheek, and her eyes glinted with malice.

“Oh, I’m going to have fun with you,” was the last thing she said before they dragged me out of the catacombs.