Page 124 of Captive of the Stolen Empire

Burns marred her lower legs and arms. Blood trickled from a mark on her face. A knife to the gut would have been less painful and easier to take.

“Ilya, love.” I brushed the hair back from her face, some of the ends short and crinkled where flame had claimed their length. “Speak to me.” If she died, all was for naught.

She didn’t move.

I twisted around, searching for aid. My heart lurched. Elin whimpered over Warren, who lay barely conscious in her lap. Reyna and Gabriel, both burned and bleeding, used strips of fabric to staunch the flow of Zurina’s wounds.

“She’s still breathing, but she—” Reyna was near hysterical with worry.

Panic crept up my spine. Ilya. My friends. I couldn’t let them die. Not now.

I sheathed my sword before cradling Ilya in my arms. My legs wobbled as I stood. Blood ran down my side, and my body barked and screamed in protest. Each step sent a flare of pain burning down to my bones as I limped over and around debris until we were just outside the manor.

“We need help!” I yelled to any who could hear.

Holy Four, let them live.Ilya’s head lolled to the side, resting against my dented armor. Distant shouts and the crash of wood rang through the ruined gardens. Smoke still clouded the air, obscuring the woods beyond.

“Anyone!” The plea rasped from my lungs.

“Luc…” Ilya’s stirred.

“Come back to me. Please. I can’t lose you.”

“Lucien?” My name cracked from her throat.

“Ilya, I’m here.” I shook with relief as I knelt, laying her gently on the ground. I pulled off my glove and placed my palm against her face, skin to blessed skin.

Her hand covered mine. “We’re alive.”

The wonder in her eyes stole my words and my pain. All I could do was nod and hold her close. Voices reached us through the smoke. I followed Ilya’s gaze as she looked to the forest. Hazy forms took shape between the trees, drawing closer.

No.The emperor wouldn’t have her back. I’d give my dying breath to ensure her freedom.

I rose, nearly stumbling back to the ground. “Can you walk?”

“I…maybe.”

“I’ll hold them off as long as I can.” I pulled my sword with a groan. “Go. Make a run for it.”

“I’m not leaving you. Not again.” She pushed to her feet, the burned and bloodied dress hanging from her shoulders.

“Ilya—”

“I won’t.”

Of all the times for her to be stubborn. “Get behind me.” I adjusted my stance, holding in the roar of pain that threatened to break free. Soldiers reached the edge of the gardens. Muted browns and greens. Worn clothes. Leather armor cobbled together in haphazard pieces.

“Rebels,” Ilya gasped.

My body sagged. Pain and weariness washed over me. I fell to my knees, no longer able to support myself.

“Lucien!” Ilya grabbed me. Her face blurred before me. “You’re hurt,” she sobbed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Had to,” I groaned, “make sure you were alright.”

“Idiot.” She sniffled.

I smiled through the pain.

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