Page 4 of Zepharali: Lord of the East Winds (Lords of the Wind Book 3)
Lazaar
Vampire King!
Why were they running toward a character his jesters had invented in their silly minds?
He and Oleksandr got past the clearing, but his pursuers were close on their heels.
Lazaar hollered when a thick, hooflike hand hit his shoulder and yanked him backward.
Myst used a gust of wind to turn her massive body in the other direction. His protector dove toward the earth and caught whatever had grabbed him in her huge talons.
He was nearly knocked off his feet, but Oleksandr clutched his elbow before he connected with the ground.
“Open the barrier, Lazaar!”
He heard the order but didn’t know how to respond.
“Hold your palm out and shoot your energy forward, the left one, not your dominant. I don’t want you to destroy it.”
Lazaar’s core sizzled like burning wood as he thrust his left arm forward, sending a fraction of his power into the atmosphere, making the air shimmer iridescent silver.
A ripple of his force ruptured the invisible blockade, splitting it in two, creating a hole only large enough for them to fit through.
“Close it, close it!”
Lazaar waited for Myst to turn sideways and fly through the obstruction before he thrust his hand out and watched the atmosphere reseal them inside.
They never stopped running, but he was able to take a semi-relieved breath when the footfalls trailing them slowed before screeching to a halt.
Lazaar took one final look over his shoulder, catching the woman’s bloodshot eyes, which seemed to promise it wouldn’t be the last time he’d see her.
“Give her no thought.” Oleksandr pumped his short legs as fast as he could. “She has no authority here.”
Lazaar couldn’t focus on what his guardian was saying, nor could he take comfort in Myst just above his head. She had to spin and twist to maneuver her massive body through the trees without breaking one of her long wings.
If Lazaar thought his senses had been overwhelmed when he left his Shadow Realm, Chessuven, he’d been mistaken. The moment he entered what his guardian called the Volkov stronghold, his core ignited with adrenaline.
His gums tingled—which was a new sensation—and his stomach revolted at the rank, unusual smells.
The many varieties of trees, bushes, and fragrant flowers overwhelmed his delicate senses. Lazaar didn’t know what to think of the mass of critters and rodents that infested these lands.
It disgusted him so much it made him run faster than he normally could. So fast he was keeping up with his raptor.
Lazaar figured it was a fight-or-flight response continuing to drive him, getting him far away from the discomfort and fear.
He leapt over fallen branches and protruding roots as if they were mere pebbles. Lazaar ran so fast that the landscape began to blur. And the faster he went, the more aware he became of his new strength.