Page 268 of Emylia

“What? No.” I spoke the words without even thinking, shaking my head in denial.

Not Ophelia.

Not my home.

But then reality set in.

My worst fears had come true.

The Warlord was here.

ChapterFifty-Nine

Istumbled forward, one hand wrapped white-knuckled around my bow, the other slick with sweat.

My grip faltered. My pulse didn’t.

It thrashed, wild and frenzied, a war drum inside my ribs.

Thick, black smoke unfurled around me, snaking around my legs, climbing over my skin, trying to claim every inch of me like something sentient—suffocating, cruel. Air scorched down my throat, bitter and acrid, searing my lungs like punishment for daring to breathe.

This wasn’t like hunting.

There was no thrill.

No calm.

Only the howl in my blood, begging to kill. To punish. To end them all.

Keep it together.

The streets I’d grown up on were gone—buried beneath ash and silence. Windows shattered. Doors gaping. Stone blackened as if the village itself had been set alight from the inside.

Each step I took dragged me closer to devastation—toward horrors I could never imagine.

The further into Ophelia we stumbled, the thicker the air became—choked with soot, with destruction, with death. My vision blurred. My lungs burned. And just when I thought I’d found my footing—I tripped.

Something soft. Yielding.

I staggered back, nearly falling. Maalikai was already beside me, steadying my body before I completely crumbled.

He crouched low, eyes locked on the ground. His face drained of all color, twisted with something primal. Revulsion. Horror.

“Go back,” he said, voice low and sharp.

I took a hesitant step forward.

“Don’t,” he said, holding his hand up to stop me. One word. Flat. Final.

He was trying to protect me. Which only meant one thing: There was something worth protecting mefrom.

I was already sinking. Knees hitting the dirt as I dropped beside him, squinting through the haze. The smoke parted just enough.

Then I saw it.

And then—my whole world tore in two.

Olag.

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