Page 117 of Captive of the Stolen Empire

“You really think that?” I asked.

Gabriel patted my shoulder. “A bond of blood is not so easily broken. We’ll see once he learns your whole story.”

His confidence was the counterpoint to my doubt. At least Gabriel had forgiven me. That alone was more of a blessing than I dared to hope for, and much more than I deserved. Words were not easy between us yet, but they flowed more naturally with each passing day.

Outside the window, Warren stiffened and pulled away from Elin before rising to his feet. My muscles tensed as the girl’s hand flew to her mouth.

“Shit.”

Muffled noise grew outside as I raced through the manor. I burst through the front doors, the crack of the wood against stone still ringing in the air as I caught sight of what Warren must have seen.

Dread turned my skin clammy.

A group of rebels carried Zurina on a makeshift stretcher, an arrow shaft protruding from her shoulder. Blood marred her dented and stained armor. Other rebels ran this way and that, their conversations blurred by my spiraling thoughts.

If she died alone out there…

I rushed to the group, falling into pace opposite Warren as they hauled her toward the manor.

“Zurina. Speak to me. What happened?”

Her helm had been removed. Sweat-dampened hair clung to her face. Her olive complexion had paled.

She groaned and cracked open one eye. “Nice to see you too.”

Praise The Four.

“They’re coming,” one of the rebels said. His grim expression told me who.

Fuck. Shit.“Where—”

A loud screech grated across my frayed nerves.

“Zurina!” Reyna slid past me, her dark hair flying behind her just as wild as the look in her eyes.

“Where?” I implored.

Zurina ignored Reyna, who pelted her with exclamations of concern. “Down the hills. Near the river. The others won’t make it. Not in time. I had to sneak by.”

Fuck all.They must have spotted our lookouts and taken them out. “You risked too much.”

She groaned in pain. “Glad I made it.”

Rebels settled Zurina into their makeshift infirmary in the dining hall. It had seen minor injuries so far, but soon the empty pallets would bear much worse.

Reyna slid onto a bench beside her. “I’ve got you,” she said, taking Zurina’s hand in hers. “We’ll fix you up.”

“Anything worse than the arrow?” a healer asked, examining the wound.

A sharp jerk of her head was Zurina’s only response. We’d earned a reprieve on that score, but we couldn’t wait around to see her bandaged and treated.

“Armor now,” I gestured to Warren, who nodded in return.

Brishon rushed in, armor on and helmet in hand. “Is she?”

“I’ll live,” Zurina called, fake humor lacing her voice.

He looked to her and nodded. “Are we under siege?”

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