Page 131 of Andreas

She never should have gone after the chieftain. If she had just listened to her father, they wouldn’t have been separated.

This was all her fault.

Reaching for the back of Brutus’s head, Areanel examined his injury with pinched brows. Blood spread across her palm. The laceration was deep.

‘Rea, do you think—’

Whatever Brutus was going to ask was cut short as the ground shook once more, sending both stumbling back. Brutus, as though by instinct, moved to wrap his body around Areanel’s, shielding her from the danger.

This time, the explosion sounded a lot closer, and when Areanel’s eyes scanned the sky, they widened, bewildered by the sight.

The world was on fire.

Flames danced higher than buildings, engulfing everything in their path. Screams ricocheted as people dashed out of their homes and into the streets. Pain. Horror. Loss. A torrent of emotions crossed the citizens’ faces, some already burnt and others clinging to their loved ones.

The hot air scorched the hairs on Areanel’s skin as the winter wind blew the flames closer.

BOOM.

There was a second. More screams, more chaos.

BOOM.

A third explosion, and people scattered, still dressed in their nightrobes, racing down the street, herding others to the docks. Each blast, Areanel noted, came from different sections of the city. They were being caged in. The last blast came from the most northern part of the city—the government district; the tall building.

Areanel could only gape at the way the glass-domed roof shattered.

No, not—

‘Vas!’ Brutus didn’t waste a second. Half staggering, half running in the direction of that final blast. Smoke filled Areanel’s nostrils, the scent of burning flesh and hopelessness palpable in the air. Everything was aflame.

The world was burning, and all Areanel could do was run.

Gripping Rymedur’s scythe until her knuckles turned white, Areanel followed Brutus.

She would find Rymedur, but first she needed to get to the others.

Brutus bolted ahead, kicking up dirt as he turned corners at a breakneck speed, pushing past citizens as they rushed to safety.

Areanel did not doubt that her father would kill her for her disobedience and failure when he found out about this. Not only was the treaty in jeopardy, but she had allowed her brothers and the Envoy to be harmed.

Aerileas would certainly have her head.

The scent of dying embers hit her before she heard the familiar voice. ‘Hey! It’s not my fault. I only went to have a piss. These fuckers—’ Areanel rounded the final corner, and something in her gut untwisted when she saw the familiar redheaded whacking his staff into the head of a masked assailant, wildly gesturing at two males behind him. ‘Were lying in wait like fucking perverts. Tried to attack me from behind when I had my dick out.’ He extended his staff once more, standing over one of the dead bodies and stabbing at the corpse. ‘I know I have a pretty face, but consent is key, and I definitely did not. Give. My consent.’

With every word, his stabs grew more aggressive. Vasilio.

And behind him, Elmrynn and Nymlaris were wiping their brows with their cloaks.

Relief whooshed out of her, and suddenly the fist clenching her heart receded, if only slightly.

‘Vas!’ Brutus shouted. He had stopped dead in his tracks. Then, Areanel watched as Brutus all but sprinted up to the small, fiery male and, without a word, pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. He dropped a kiss to his temple and cupped his cheeks, ignoring the way his hands shook and the choked sound of his voice. ‘Never change, love.’

In true Vasilio fashion, he threw a wink at his lover and speared the last rebel with his staff—Nemesis. ‘Wasn’t planning on it, big guy.’

Areanel fought a smile as she approached, and Elmrynn squared his shoulders, posture straightening, axe by his side. Nymlaris turned, hand smoothing his tousled hair, when he heard her.

‘What happened?’ she asked Vasilio. But her mind remained on Rymedur. She needed to get to him—and fast. ‘Where’s Percy and Ryyen?’