“Sapphira?” He shook, his arms going around his torso like he held me instead of himself.
“I’m here, Tor, I’m here. This is real.”
Emrys got the lock open, and I rushed in. The other’s gaped, like they didn’t know whether to run or fight me.
“You’re free. They are distracted but not for long. Go!” They didn’t need to be told again. Dris offered the biggest man her dagger and he accepted with only a nod.
“Tor.” I called his name again, this time daring to touch him. He turned over slowly. His deep-blue eyes focused on me and softened, then he smiled.
“I was dreaming of you,” he whispered, like he was still away in a dream of us.
Us.
With great effort, Tor stood. He took in my new appearance, and I knew he saw a new woman. I had packed on muscle. My skin wasn’t as sunken in from lack of nutrition. My posture was that of a survivor, not the broken girl he had known. I was someone else entirely, changed in just these short weeks.
So much had changed.
He brought his lips to mine, only for the barest of seconds, though it felt like years. I pulled back and hugged him tightly, sadness and happiness mixing together in the pit of my stomach. Too much had changed, and I wasn’t the same girl anymore.
Chapter Fifty-Four
“We’ve gotta get out of here. Can you run? Can you fight?” He’d already been through so much.
He nodded, his lips pursed together, and I could tell he wanted to say more, but it wasn’t the time. I reached around my back and lifted the bow and quiver off me, handing it to him. He was a master with an arrow, and I was lucky enough to have taken this set from one of the Dramen’s we’d downed on the way here. We walked toward the exit, and he watched only me, not even taking in our companions, whose glances darted back and forth between us.
I was more afraid of that conversation I’d have to have with him than I was facing the Dramens who appeared in the hallway just outside the holding room. A woman stood in the middle of them. Her brown eyes were decorated with black makeup, and harsh tattoos covered her cheeks. She was fit, and her leather clothes were bound together by string. She carried a sword on her hip and a gun in the other. She had a cunning and carnal expression. The black-spiked crown on her blood-coated, blond hair suggested we had met the Dramen’s queen.
Emrys didn’t hesitate. With Fae speed, he whipped out the only gun we had and fired. Tor nocked an arrow and shot two of the queen’s guards.
“Run!” Dris screamed, and we took off down the hall, away from the shouting and very angry queen behind us. A howl echoed through the castle, and my body zinged at the sound. Rune was near and alive.
“He came?” Tor’s surprised tone was not hidden through his heavy breaths. My body tensed from his words.
“This way.” Emrys led us through the maze of halls toward an exit. A Dramen bellowed, coming from a room we hadn’t looked in. The knife in his hand aimed for me. My hatchet crashed against his skull in seconds. I reacted without thinking. I pulled my blade from his head. Tor didn’t know what to make of this new Sapphira. It bothered him, and I couldn’t give him any reassurance now . . . maybe not ever.
The scent of smoke hit us as we leaped out into what looked like the courtyard. Fire ravaged the city. People didn’t even try to fight the blaze torching their precious homes. The Dramens were firing cannons, which made loud booming noises. Gunshots were being fired toward the sky, and then close to us on the ground. A snarling roar echoed against the stone walls, and the sounds of screams came from inside the palace behind us.
“Desmire!” I shouted loudly, hoping the dragon heard my call.
Three Dramens came at us with weapons over their heads for a kill. Dris blocked one sword with hers, sweat dripping from her shimmering face as she gritted her teeth from the force of clashing steel. Tor engaged in battle with another, summoning enough strength to block, punch, and kick the Dramen’s legs out from under him. His hand grasped an arrow and dug its pointed blade into the neck of the evil man. Emrys threw his only dagger into the chest of the other.
“Shit,” he said. The hungry crowd of bloodthirsty Dramens wanting revenge came out of the smoke, right for us . . . with the king of the feral people at its center.
Chapter Fifty-Five
“Desmire! Rune!” I screamed, the panic in my voice was not forced or fake but terrifyingly real. We could not fight off this small army.
“We’ve got maybe thirty seconds until our blades clash with theirs.” Dris shook with fear as she lifted her sword, preparing for battle.
My eyes met with Tor’s. There was so much we needed to say, feelings to talk about, and answers to hear.
“You came for me,” he said, trying to make me feel better . . . always trying to bring me out of the dark place in my head that threatened to crush me.
“I did.” Now we would all die together. I raised my sword at the roaring creatures who wanted to feast on our blood.
A lifeless body was flung into view on our right, and the stones beneath my feet quivered as a large werewolf stepped in front of me. His sharp teeth and rippling roar stopped the Dramens. Blood dripped from Rune’s claws, and I knew his teeth would be the same. Suddenly, a black mass dropped from the sky with large wings spread wide, crushing the stones beneath the weight.
Desmire attacked, shooting fire at the crowd. He swiped his large spiked tail toward the fleeing people who shot at him.
“Get on! Now!” I screamed, and my friends began to run.
Rune’s snout lifted, baring teeth like he was about to growl at his brother but then stopped when I grabbed onto his hand and pulled him toward the dragon. We needed to leave before we lost our chance. Rune made sure everyone was loaded on Desmire first, before stepping onto the dragon’s hand again. I smiled from the victory. We’d actually done it.
Out the corner of my eye, I saw the Dramen queen with a spear in her outstretched arms. Everything moved in slow motion as I watched the weapon leave the queen’s hands. Desmire’s vast wings began to rise, his feet lifted, a position ready to shoot us into the sky. The queen’s face held a smile on her lips, as the spear flew straight and true toward my wildly beating heart.
“No!” Tor screamed; his hand reached out to stop the spear but the queen had made a calculated move. Desmire’s body lifted, and I was going to be in the spear’s path. A mass of black fur blocked my sight, almost knocking me off Desmire. A high-pitched howl ripped my world into shreds as a metal blade protruded through the gut of the werewolf hovering over me. Rune’s eyes closed, and his mouth went slack.
“Grab him!” Tor said, and Dris and Emrys shot into action. Rune was falling, the spear in his gut going with him, and no one was quick enough to grab him.
“Desmire, please!” I pleaded though my sobs. The dragon dove and clutched the cursed prince in his claws, before lifting us up into the night sky.
My heart couldn’t take anymore. I was tired of losing those I loved, tired of seeing people in unnecessary pain and anguish. I was tired of fighting. I let myself fall into a deep sleep that wrapped around me.
“Sleep, Sapphira. I’ll make sure you are safe,” Tor whispered in my ear, and I managed to nod.