Page 78 of Empire of Flame and Thorns

The sun is slipping lower on the horizon, painting the sky with streaks of purple and red. It casts splashes of deep color on the wooden walls. I stare at them as I remain right inside the door. Draven has to return soon.

Dread cuts through my chest as a sudden thought hits me.

What if he doesn’t return? What if he decides to simply sleep somewhere else tonight and leave me here all alone? Then I won’t even have the chance to try again.

The lock clicks.

My heart lurches.

Both relief and panic crackle through my veins.

He’s here. It’s time.

I grip the large book harder in my hands. There weren’t all that many possible weapons to choose from, so a thick leather tome was the best I could find. It will have to do. I raise the book higher in a two-handed grip.

My pulse thrums in my ears.

This has to work. Please, Mabona, this has to work.

The door is pulled open.

A black boot appears across the threshold.

I slam the book straight at Draven’s face right as he steps through.

He yanks his arm up.

And right before the book can crash into his face, his forearm appears in front of it and takes the hit instead. I growl in frustration. His other hand shoots up, yanking the book out of my grip. I snatch my hands back right before he can catch my wrist as well.

He tosses the heavy tome to the floor and whirls towards me. The book hits the floorboards with a loud thud, but my eyes are fixed on the door. The still open door.

I feint a kick between Draven’s legs.

By instinct, he flinches.

Twisting around, I dash forward.

My foot makes it one step across the threshold.

Then my stomach lurches as strong arms wrap around my waist, lifting me off the floor and hauling me back into the room.

“No!” I yell in frustration.

Fighting with everything I have, I try to break his grip on me and get my feet back down on the floor. Draven grunts with exertion as I yank and shove at his arms while kicking my heels towards his shins. One arm disappears from around my waist. I wiggle, managing to slip through his grip and land on the floor again.

The door bangs shut as Draven throws it closed behind us. But before he can lock it, I make another attempt to sprint towards it.

“Azaroth’s fucking flame,” he curses under his breath as his hands snatch at me while I try to twist out of his grip. “Did you oil up your entire body for this or what?”

I’m almost free, slipping between his hands, when he switches tactics. A gasp rips from my lungs as he hooks his foot behind my ankle and yanks my leg forwards. The move makes me stumble, and he uses that moment to bring us both down on the floor.

My back hits the smooth wooden floorboards with a thud. I let out a huff as my breath escapes my lungs. Before I can get my wits back, Draven’s knees hit the floor on either side of me. I try to roll away, but my hips are now trapped between his thighs as he straddles me.

Panic pulses through me, and I aim a punch at his face.

His left hand shoots up and grabs my wrist before the strike can hit. I suck in a sharp breath. Pulling furiously, I try to yank my wrist out of his grip, but I might as well have been fighting an iron manacle. Raising my other hand, I grab at his fingers, trying to bend them off my wrist. He simply reaches out with his other hand and wraps that around my free wrist as well.

A frustrated noise tears from my throat as Draven pushes both of my hands back towards the floor. I try to fight him, try to stop my arms from moving, but I’m so ridiculously outmatched against his strength.

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