Chapter 71
MYRA
Myra swallowed her scream as agony flooded the streets.
It had happened so fast. Once the guards marched down the streets and the explosives went off, chaos ran rampant.
As the screams of terror rang in her ears, Myra didn’t think it could get worse. Then, the drakonises came. Their claws ripped through anything the beasts encountered: stone, brick, flesh.
In the havoc, those fighting didn’t have time to wonder who released the beasts—Rian, Sebastian, or someone else entirely. They had no time to place the blame on anyone. Not as they fought for their lives, as they struggled to survive.
All at once, Myra was back in Pontia when the Frenzians had stormed the castle and burned the coastal village to the ground.
Explosions erupted in every direction.
Windows shattered, and the broken glass mixed with the gravel.
Iron tinged the air.
Blood splattered across the walls, and ripped-off limbs lay forgotten in the streets.
Panic and fear rose higher and higher. It wrapped its fiery tendrils around Myra’s throat as the emotions of the ravaged city fell upon her shoulders, forcing her to her knees.
She struggled to breathe. Struggled to move, to fight, to run.
She couldn’t see beyond the blood on her hands. She couldn’t even recall if it was hers or someone else’s. If she had caused the pain or if she had tried to stop it.
A shadow fell across her, and she was swept from the ground. As the frigid wind nipped at her cheeks, Myra had no fight left in her. She didn’t scream. She didn’t call out. She stared at the ground below her as horror flooded the street.
The beast carrying her headed toward an alley. When her feet landed on the ground softer than she had expected, Myra blinked.
Inhaling, she choked on smoke and coughed. Swatting at the debris wafting around her, she spotted white wings stained red and black.
"Laurince?" she croaked, her throat dry.
Laurince’s arms wrapped around her before he pulled back and gripped her shoulders.
He bent down to her height and peered at her.
She struggled to maintain his eye contact.
Although his broad frame and wings blocked the scene behind him, she could still hear the screams, the cries, the snapping of bones.
"Look at me, Haze," he said, squeezing her shoulders gently.
Myra peeled her gaze away from the smoke filling the night sky.
"You need to get out of here."
Myra shook her head and took a step back. She wouldn’t abandon him. She promised.
Tears hung on her lash-line, her vision blurring and distorting Laurince’s features.
"Myra, listen to me." His fingers dug into her sore shoulders. "I will be right behind you."
"No, you won’t," she said through clenched teeth as she held back the tears.
"The others need you—the wounded and the dying. They need you to help them," Laurince pleaded.
"You need me," she whispered, the tears escaping.
"I need you to be safe."
She chewed on her bottom lip, hesitating. "I can’t help them," she said at last. "I’m not a healer."
It was something she recalled saying to Domitius before when he had asked her to assist with the experiments. She had no choice but to listen then, and look where that had gotten them.
Laurince tipped up her chin, beckoning her to meet his eyes. "You helped me, Haze."
Another explosion erupted, this one even closer than the last. The earth beneath their feet quaked. Laurince held her tighter.
"You can do this, Myra. Your gift is a blessing, and those who are in pain will be grateful for a single ounce of it. Phaia will go with you."
"Phaia? But she’s—" Myra choked on her words as the woman appeared beside Laurince.
Phaia’s blouse was disheveled, a sleeve torn as if someone had snatched it. A smear of soot was spread across her forehead as if she had wiped the back of her hand on it. She carried a small blade. As if tracking Myra’s gaze, she slipped the stained weapon behind her back.
"We’ll go together, yeah?" Phaia held out her other hand with a trembling smile. She was afraid, too. But she wasn’t giving up. That much was clear.
Myra glanced at Laurince. She saw the plea in his eyes, and although she hated to part from him, she knew she would only be a distraction.
She nodded.
"I—" Laurince cut himself off though and wrapped her in his arms, squeezing her tightly. "I’ll find you afterwards, all right?" he whispered into her ear.
Tears soaked Myra’s cheek and fell onto his shoulder. Her throat swelled up, stealing her voice. Squeezing her eyes shut, she nodded, holding him tighter. He kissed her cheek.
Without another word, Phaia snatched Myra’s hand and peeled her off Laurince. Phaia ran in the opposite direction of the castle, pulling Myra behind her.
Myra looked back, but Laurince was already returning to the fight.
And as she stared at his disappearing figure, she couldn’t help but wonder if that was truly what he had wanted to say or if he had been going to say something else before he had stopped himself.
She wondered if she would ever get the chance to know.