Page 88 of Burn Her They Said
I pry it open just a hair. “Announce yourself quietly; she’s sleeping.”
“Imperial Grand Philosopher Wyrth.”
A collective groan sounds through the room behind me.
“And your purpose?”
“To perform the exam I was turned away from performing earlier.”
“As I said, she is sleeping.”
Wyrth takes hold of the door and begins to open it, so I grasp hold of the lever and refuse to let him.
“I don’t know what you think you are doing, but you will not be gaining entry.”
He huffs. “I won’t be a bother. Her healer can help her remain asleep while I perform?—”
My face contorts as I try to reconcile what he’s just said. “You will not be touching her, especially not when she is unconscious; I don’t care if the Emperor commands it himself.” The door clicks shut as I refrain from slamming it, and Malin uses his power to lock every lock.
“Hey.” Cirrin takes hold of my shoulder. “You did the right thing.”
I nod and force myself not to shrug out of his affection, then look up to make eye contact with all of them.
My gaze lands on Fray last, and my ears fill with a high, tinny ringing when I ask, “Has he ever performed an exam on her while she was sleeping?”
They each shake their heads, and I can finally pull in a breath. “Good. And he never will. Not as long as I’m breathing.”
Tasch shifts under the covers and groans as I rush over.
Her hand is so cold when I take it in my own, and her fingertips barely have any color left in them. I squeeze her palm four times and tell her, “I’m here, mei meida. I have you. I promise.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Shattered
Crashing.
Smashing.
Tinkling glass.
I gasp heavily and bolt upright in bed.
Bleary-eyed from the dream I just had.
A nightmare. One I’ve had before.
Frenetic energy greets me before I can make out the scene.
“Fly!” Varic screams, bounding around the foot of the bed just before time slows, and I look past him to gape at the giant hole in my window.
“No!” I scream back, shredding my vocal cords as I throw up my hands to try to prevent Fray from taking me when his arms crush my thrashing form to his chest in my futile attempt at fighting against his strength and determination. Yet his unrelenting hold does nothing to stop me from trying—pushing and shoving—needing to break free.
The deep ochre of horror fills my chest when Varic’s shield transforms into an orb around Fray and me the moment we lift off the mattress.
Fray pivots, angling us headfirst toward the balcony as my heart squeezes from Varic’s quick thinking, then tears pool when I crane my neck, needing to see if he’s shielding all of them.
He needs to protect everyone, not just me, and Fray by extension.
