Page 98 of A Flame of the Phoenix

“I’m going to get you back,” she whispered into his chest. “I promise.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Zaiana

Kyleer, the fool that he was, hooked his bound wrists over her head right before the impact of the ruin’s power sent them—and the whole establishment—flying in pieces. His body easily encased hers, and she couldn’t be separated from him because of the chains locking them together. She wasn’t spared from the impact—his body was hardly a cushion as they hit whatever it was that stopped them from being projected further—but he did save her from worse pain.

When they lay against each other in a heap of wreckage, Zaiana couldn’t even lift herself immediately.

“You’re a damned idiot,” she seethed. Wiggling her body, she managed to duck under and out of his chains.

“Yeah, I think I am,” he groaned in pain.

Zaiana scrambled up, fully aware and searching through the debris and panicked civilians. She hadn’t expected Faythe to be so naïve as to try wielding the ruin.What an insufferable, overpowered fool.It was incredulous the heir had refused to die until now.

She had to brace on her knees to catch her breath from the surge of adrenaline. Zaiana had never felt so useless. The power of the ruin had vibrated and taunted her core of magick, caressing her skin in dark strokes. Mocking her. She should have been able to silence it safely herself, yet her magick only battered the seal on the vault she could not open.

What was it all for?

Her suffering, her training, all the times she’d conquered death to defy the claim of a ruin and become its master. Now she was nothing.

It was all for nothing.

“Zai—”

She spun, dagger drawn in a flash of rage, and he was the closest thing to unleash it upon. Her steel screeched against metal, wedged between a link on his Magestone chains, which he raised to protect his face.

“What happened to your magick?” he asked—not with any teasing or mocking butconcern.

“Nothing.”

“You’ve demonstrated how well you can use a ruin’s power, so you can drop the bullshit.”

She pushed him with a hand to his chest. “I just can’t reach it right now,” she said defensively.

He frowned, assessing her in a way that made her itch at the attention. At the thought, Zaiana surveyed the room for Faythe. Perhaps she would engage in combat with her instead to release her sour resentment that the heir wasn’t suffering any loses since their battle like she was.

At first glance over the wreckage and commotion, she couldn’t see her or Reylan. Kyleer’s chains rattled in her pursuit as she searched for them. The town was in a state of upset with what Faythe had done, the scent of human blood lingering withan icy note through the air, and Zaiana’s tongue traced her sharp fangs.

She stopped her search when a compulsion pulled her attention. Zaiana found a man on the ground, clutching his leg while the snow drank his blood. She swallowed dryly, unable to tear her sight from the waste. When human blood was spilled warm and fresh in front of her, it tested all the restraint she’d spent centuries mastering.

“You spent months in our cells and didn’t crave it,” Kyleer said carefully. His large form blocked her view of the man, and her lethal stare latched to him instead.

“He’s going to die anyway,” she snapped.

I don’t need to drink. I don’t need to drink.

Zaiana scrunched her eyes and swallowed again, but each time only reminded her how damnedthirstyshe was right now. She wanted to kill that man himself for tempting her this way.

“Drink from me,” Kyleer said.

What an outrageous suggestion.

At least, that was her immediate thought, until she found the pulsing vein in his neck by instinct. She’d never craved blood from a fae before. Never considered it.

“You don’t mean that,” she said a little breathily.

All she could smell wasblood.She needed to get out of here.

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