Page 88 of Court of Wolves

“Ark?” Maia demanded, suddenly struggling to breathe. She stared from Kheir to the drake—even closer,fartoo close now—to Bryon as he fired precise strikes of air at Karmen, forcing her back towards—

“No,” Maia snarled, surging to her feet and ignoring the way pain ripped through several places of her body. “Keep her away from the children.”

I’ll get the children to safety,the drake vowed, making her jump.

“Already shielded them,” Bryon said in a low rumble, rage deepening his voice. “I’ll crush her against my shield until her bones turn to ash.”

Karmen laughed but a snarl from the drake shut her up. She was afraid of him, Maia realised. Because the drakes were older even than saints? Or because they were more powerful?

Both,the drake said.Take your mates and leave this place while there’s still the chance.

“I’m not leaving Kheir while he’d injured.Orthe children,” she argued—then realised she was arguingwith a drake.Was she completely insane?

The drake’s eyes slid towards her, making her heart skip for a moment. But then Kheir was scrambling to his feet, pulling her up and into a rough hug and—and he was stronger? Able to stand? Able to speak?

“We need to find Ark. Now. She—” He swallowed, his jaw clenched.

“What?” Maia demanded. “She did what?What did she do to my mate?”

“Trust me,” a warm, pain-roughened voice responded, making Maia jump. The response didn’t come from Kheir, it came from… “You don’t want to know.”

Maia stared when the drake slid its huge, powerful tail aside to reveal Vawn, the man she’d only seen once before, in the saints' circle, empty-eyed and callous, the willing servant of the saints. But here he was, with pain and anger burning in his unwavering stare, a smile aimed at her, so much life and suffering in his soul that her magic burst back to life.

Oh, saints.Ark leaned on Vawn, his steps dragging, his body clearly wracked with weakness and pain, and blood waseverywhere.Maia was running before she could stop herself. “Bryon—”

“I’ve got Kheir’s back,” he promised.

That was all the reassurance Maia needed. Her fury and fear had its own heartbeat, had its own will. It wanted to destroy, to unleash the full fury of spring upon anyone who dared to hurt what was hers.

Whatever you did to Kheir,she said to the drake, too furious to move her lips to speak.Please do the same to Ark. Heal him. I’ll be in your debt.

Not necessary, dove. We fight the same war and call the same villains enemies. I’ll heal your mate, but it must be quick, before—

“Scylla!” Karmen screamed as loudly as her ruined throat would allow. The black stain of hatred had spread to her entire soul.“Scylla!”

Before that happens,the drake sighed.Take them and run. I’ll guide the children out.

Maia didn’t stop running until she reached Ark and Vawn, her hands finding Ark’s pale, clammy face. Her fury reached a fever pitch, even as something seemed to lock into place at the sight ofVawn.The urgency and need that had consumed her soul the moment she realised he stood inside the saints' circle finally eased. She hadn’t realised she was still carrying it.

What did she do to Ark? What did shedoto him? Maia couldn’t slow her breathing, couldn’t still her rage. It built, and built, and then the ground was trembling again—not because of the drake this time. Because the plants that grew under the stone were angry too, because they felt the poison and wrongness of the saints and wanted it gone. This was a sacred place, and their presence was an insult.

Something brushed her hand where she held Ark’s face—wings, feathered and soft. She was too furious for shock even when the hawk tattoo inked against his throat flexed its wings and took flight.

“Uh,” Vawn said, adjusting his grip on Ark as his weight threatened to drop him. “You just—brought a tattoo to life. That’s what happened, right? Or am I going mad?”

“Not the time, son,” Bryon said gruffly, making Maia’s head snap up. He was close now, him and Kheir both armed, one with a stolen sword, one with a stolen dagger. “We need to get out of here. The drake’s nervous about something, and I don’t want tostick around long enough to see what makes a mythical creature nervy.”

“Me, neither,” Vawn agreed, adjusting his grip on Ark.

Maia cradled Ark’s scruffy face, her eyes on the blood on his clothes, his shoes. There were two holes in his shoes. She tilted her head sharply, staring at those bloodied holes, waiting for it to make sense, her magic surging and surging.

The ground cracked, rebellious roots forcing their way through the stone, reaching for the saint. Vines crawled up the walls, swallowed them entirely.

“Maia,” Kheir murmured, reaching for her shoulder.

“I wouldn’t,” Bryon warned, catching his hand. “Not right now.”

Maia drew a breath, then another, staring at those holes even as Vawn moved, carrying Ark with him. She followed, the movement making his arms sway, his hands—

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