Chapter 34
Ryven
I’ve said my piece. Now I wait for the signal—the moment my bindings catch flame. The way they have us tied to these crosses, I can tell they plan to burn us alive when the clock strikes midnight. I’ve only seen this once before. Public execution by fire is the cult’s idea of theater.
But I’m not going to be the next act, and neither is Rory.
The men are behind us now. Rory doesn’t realize what that means—but I do.
It’s starting.
They drag our ropes tighter and tighter as they each stalk toward the trees with the end in their hands.
All they’re waiting for is Cedric’s nod—to touch flames to rope, setting the execution in motion.
I don’t want her to panic. If my plan fails, I’d rather she never see it coming.
Cedric keeps talking—gloating, grandstanding—until the moon rises full overhead. It must be our time now. Cedric turns to give us one last glare of disapproval before looking past us at the men holding our fate in their hands.
One nod is all it takes.
And there it is.
Cedric nods his approval, and the men put their flames on the rope. It hisses as the fire eats its way closer.
We can’t move or run. Instead, we wait for the burn.
Rory turns her wide-eyed gaze toward me and asks, “What are they doing?”
“Shh. Everything’s gonna be okay,” I whisper. “Just remember what I told you.”
It’s a lie. Empty words to keep her steady.
I love her, and I’ll burn if I have to, but she’s getting out.
Soon the flames are under our feet, and the tops almost touch my shoes. Rory sees what’s happening and tries to squirm her body free of the binds.
She kicks—wild, frantic—and manages to free one foot. Then the other.
The fire crawls higher. My boots start to smoke.
The pain is blinding—but I just need to hold on. A few seconds more.
Screams erupt from the back of the crowd.
Arrows rain down from the trees. Come on, Jennifer. Don't miss.
Flames catch my pants on fire, heat biting through the fabric, and a scream erupts from my mouth. Jennifer’s arrow slices through the air and strikes the rope at my wrist—perfect aim.
It severs clean, so I rip my other hand free and drop.
My legs hit the ground and nearly give out. The pain’s white-hot, but I’m moving. I brush off the flickers of fire and head toward Rory.
“Don’t move!” I shout.
She’s trying to stay above the flames. Her face scrunches as the heat licks closer, panic etched into her face.
I scramble, chest to chest with her until both of us are breathing fire and ash. “Legs around me,” I growl, tugging at the rope binding her wrists.
“What the hell are you doing? Leave me, Ryven!” she snaps.
Not a chance.
“If you burn, I burn.”
Flames lick my thigh and I grit my teeth and keep going.
I bite down on my cheek to stop from screaming out. Struggling to get the rope loose enough for her to squeeze her arm free, I begin to panic, thinking that this may be it.
Then it budges just slightly and she yanks her wrist free.
“Thank God,” I breathe, already reaching for her second wrist.
“Jump!” she yells, pushing off the cross, and we fall to the ground. She slaps at the flames on my pants and hauls me to my feet.
She tries to inspect my wounds, but I push her hands away. “We don’t have time for that right now!” I yell as the chaos erupts around us.
Gunfire erupts from the cult’s ranks—bullets slicing the air inches from our heads. Civilians run and scream from every direction.
“We have to get to cover!” I grab her by the arm and yank her toward the woods.
We’re nearly to the tree line when she jerks free of my grip.
“No! We end this tonight! I will not run now.”
I look past her at the chaos still happening and let out a breath. This is it. “I guess if we die tonight, at least it will be us dying while fighting for what we have been up against all these years.”
I hold out my hand for her to grab, and we return to the group.
“Over here!” Jennifer yells as we come into view, and we both rush to her side.
She hands me a loaded gun and an extra magazine loaded with bullets. I place the extra bullets in my back pocket.
She gives Rory a bow with a satchel. Rory swings it over her shoulder and nocks an arrow.
“You guys ready?” A woman asks, walking up behind me.
I look at her over my shoulder as bullets whiz past the rock we kneel behind. “Yeah, let's do this.”
Rory starts to rise, but I yank her back.
She opens her mouth to ask what but I press my lips to hers. I kiss her like it’s the last time—because it might be.
When we break apart, we don’t wait.
We charge. All of us. Straight into hell.