Page 88 of Violet Legacy

“Not happening.” Rieka objected.

Dante looked to Chaucer. Dante couldn’t sense any malice or lies from him. Idris had shown he wasn’t fallible. Could he risk Rieka’s safety? He didn’t have a choice. “Lead the way.” He grasped Rieka for a moment longer, imprinting everything about her into his mind. He breathed in the scent that was uniquely hers. “You go next.”

Rieka raised an eyebrow, conflicting emotions on her face. “No heroics. You owe me, Delacroix.”

A lifetime, even if it was to be tragically short-lived.

Dante reluctantly released her. “I will be behind you.”

Rieka followed Chaucer, her willowy figure slipping between the darkness as the light in his life disappeared into safety. It was the only way.

The serpopards roared behind them as the sickly-sweet scent of the wayfarers surrounded them.

“Talik!”

Talik didn’t hesitate, rolling the boulder into place as Rieka yelled from the other side. Icy calm descended over Dante. Rieka would be safe, Chaucer would lead her to the surface, and Anhur would ensure she remained protected.

Khalida unsheathed her other sword, twirling both of them as she moved into a defensive position. Idris didn’t move. Blood dripped from his mouth; his pale eyes widened in horror as he realized what they had just done. Without the support of the Anki, Idris was an outsider. Dante was going to use it to their advantage.

Talik slammed the butt of his blaster against Idris’s head, the loud crack a sickening sound as Idris slumped to the ground unconscious. He shrugged. “He would just get in the way.”

Khalida laughed. “This is a good place for a battle.”

Chapter 55

“Chaucer,areyoufuckingkidding me?” Rieka kicked the boulder with everything she had left as she screamed into the void. The small cave was no bigger than fifteen feet wide and was almost encased entirely in darkness. Twinkling pale lights lit the ceiling, bright enough that she could make out a small ledge above her. “Are you going to leave them out there? It’s an ambush!”

A sense of powerlessness washed over Rieka, but she ignored it, pushing it down as she focused on the rage that burned through her. It was all-consuming, like a flame that threatened to burn her from the inside out. The bracelet pulsed, each electrical jolt fanning the torment within her. It was like a valve was releasing within her. The hotter the flame, the more she wanted to consume it until she was nothing more than a raging inferno, willing to burn everything in her path. A true wildfire. Rieka lifted her hand; a violet flame licked her fingers before disappearing.

Chaucer stared back, his mouth open in a perfect circle. He stepped forward, shaking his head as he turned back and started walking towards the ledge; their way out. The pale-yellow lights flickered, casting shadows across his face. “We need to keep moving.”

She wasn’t leaving Dante behind; she was done not fighting for what she wanted. There was no guarantee to what would happen in the future, but she was going to try. “No.”

“Do you want their sacrifice to be in vain?” Chaucer softly whispered. “They want the bracelet, and they will do everything in their power to get it or die trying.”

“They need me alive.”

“No.” Chaucer shook his head. “Not in the way you think.” He sighed as he slowly looked back the way they had come from. “You aren’t going to change your mind.”

Good. They were on the same page. “Whykhatya?”

Rieka had never actually believed the oath existed. But apparently Dante and Chaucer took it seriously. Too bad it was her life, and they had no influence on her actions.

“It is a verbal bond of protection—I will do anything and everything within my means to ensure that you are unharmed,” Chaucer explained. “Until you release me.”

“I release you.”

“It is not that simple.”

Of course not—that would be too easy.

Rieka straightened and looked Chaucer straight in the eye, careful to enunciate every word. “Let me make this clear—I will get to Dante. You can either help me or get out of my way.” Rieka smiled sweetly. “I don’t need to be rescued.”

“Are you willing to kill a wayfarer? They are in essence human or Atlantean,” Chaucer asked.

The question threw her. She had never really thought about it. She had always valued life; had never thought she could kill someone. But the blood of queens and monsters ran through her. “Yes.”

Chaucer sighed again, his gaze filled with conflicting emotions.

---