Page 295 of Emylia

Primal. Deadly.

Terror ripped through me, shredding whatever was left of my restraint.

He would not take Maalikai too. I refused to let him tear another piece of my soul away.

Without thought, without hesitation, I let the arrow fly. Though I couldn't hear the impact from the trees, I knew the sound it would make—the wet, brutal thud as it punched through flesh and bone.

The warrior crumpled to the ground.

Lifeless.

I should’ve been horrified. I should’ve felt something.

But I didn’t.

Not even a sliver of remorse.

The bastards had stolen everything from me.

Everything.

If I hadn’t killed him, he would’ve killed Maalikai. And I would kill a thousand more if I had to.

Screw him.

Screw all of them.

They deserved worse. And I would be the one to give it to them.

A breath of relief escaped me—short-lived. So short-lived it might as well have never existed.

Another warrior charged from the side of the house, sword raised to defend his fallen comrade. But this time, Maalikai was ready. I’d bought him enough time to set my mother down, enough time to arm himself. Maalikai met the warrior head-on, steel flashing as he countered the first strike.

They moved in a blur, so fast I couldn’t take a shot without risking hitting him.

Crap.

Steel clashed, ringing out sharp and vicious over the roaring panic in my head. And then—a flicker of motion behind the house. Another warrior, shielded from Maalikai’s view, stepped into the open with a blade begging for blood.

For Maalikai’s blood.

Maalikai didn’t see him.

No. No. No.

I loosed an arrow with a snarl of fury.

It hit—dead center, right through the skull. A clean, brutal kill. The second warrior dropped like stone?—

But I was too late.

Blood soaked into Maalikai’s shirt, thick and dark, flowing faster than I could process.

A broken cry tore from my lips—feral, unhinged—as I sprinted from the trees.

I loaded another arrow, hands shaking with rage and terror, and aimed. The sharp snap of my movement was enough—just enough—to draw the remaining warrior’s attention.

Maalikai, bleeding but unbroken, seized the moment. With a roar, he drove his sword into the man’s heart. Crimson gushed from the warrior’s chest as he staggered, then fell facedown into the dirt.

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