Page 296 of Emylia

Dead.

The sight of blood soaking Maalikai’s shirt liquefied my insides.

Without thought—without breath—I sprinted forward, distance vanishing until only air separated us.

“Maalik—”

I couldn’t finish.

The words twisted in my throat, too tangled with terror to make it out—the words that meantplease tell me you’re okay. Please don’t leave me. Please stay.

The idea of losing him now—after everything—it would destroy me.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. It’s just a flesh wound.”

A breath whooshed from my lungs—half relief, half disbelief.

But the dread clawing at my heart squeezed tighter. Because Maalikai was bleeding. Because my mother hadn’t moved.

“Mom?” I rasped, dragging my gaze down to where Maalikai had laid her on the ground.

“It’s okay. I’m here,” she whispered, her voice thin and fraying at the edges.

Relief and terror crashed together inside me as I dropped to my knees.

Her emerald eyes, dulled by pain, locked onto mine. They held me—but not long enough to block out the blood staining her dress. The sight stole the ground from under me. I didn’t feel the impact of the earth. Didn’t register the scrape of my hands and knees as I crawled for her. Reached for her.

All I could feel was the sound of her blood soaking into the dirt.

All I could see was the horror.

Blood had soaked her white dress, turning it into something unrecognizable—crimson, broken, wrong.

"Emylia," she gasped, reaching for me with bloodied fingers, pressing something into my hands.

The signets.

Her signets.

"I've put your father's warrior signet in there. And yours too."

"Mine?" The question stumbled out instinctively, meaningless and broken. Honestly, at the moment, that was the least of my worries.

All that mattered was the way her hands trembled.

"You are the greatest gift the Gods ever gave us," she whispered, forcing the words past shaking lips. "I’m sorry we couldn’t protect you better."

“No—” The word escaped me, ragged and desperate. "You protected me just fine," I choked out, refusing to let her make this a goodbye.

Tears blurred my vision. I bent lower, clutching her hands in mine like I could keep her here.

"I failed you."

Her hand grazed my cheek, a trembling, feather-light touch that undid me more than any sword could have.

"You could never fail me," she whispered, the words almost lost to the rising wind.

A shudder rolled through her body—not the final kind, but the kind that warned of the storm gathering inside her.

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