Page 39 of Bound In Stone, Claimed In Fire

Glancing down at Sariah’s sleeping face, I vow I’ll protect her from that corruption. From Nerezza’s manipulations—and from my own misguided fears.Sariah is not Nerezza.Repeating that truth in my head, I stroke a clawed finger across her hair, ignoring the pang of guilt for having doubted her.She needs me steady, not riddled with self-loathing.

A new wave of determination surges in my chest.We have to reach Snowfall Glen. We have to rally what forces we can, warn them, find a real solution.If Nerezza roams Protheka, slaughtering or enslaving any who stand against her, we can’t confront her alone. Not yet.We must gather allies. Strengthen our synergy. Only then can we stand a chance.

My gaze lifts to the stars, their pale glow reminding me of the nights centuries ago when I soared with Nerezza under a different sky, believing we’d found a way to save gargoyles.We were so young, so blind.My jaw tightens.Never again.

Gradually, the night deepens, the fire dying to embers. I maintain my watch, ignoring the ache in my ribs. The tether throbs softly with Sariah’s rhythmic breathing, a comforting pulse that anchors me in the present.Nerezza can taunt me all she wants.I won’t falter. The memory of that fleeting moment we shared in the cave—the raw intimacy, the collision of hearts—reminds me I have more to fight for now than just revenge. I have Sariah’s future in my hands as well.

Morning will come, and with it, another day of perilous travel. Nerezza’s brood might hunt us from the skies, Drayveth’s rogues might ambush us from the ground, and our own fears might tear us apart from within. But for tonight, Sariah rests in my arms, alive, defiant, refusing to let me face my past alone.

I curl my tail around her ankles protectively, wings forming a shelter from the biting wind. As my eyes skim her sleeping face, a fierce tenderness floods my chest.I won’t let Nerezza’s manipulations destroy this bond.She might have threatened me with old guilt, might have tried to paint Sariah as the next monster—but I won’t succumb to that twisted narrative.

When Sariah stirs in her sleep, I murmur a low reassurance, feeling the tether soothe her nightmares. The storms of my mind calm, replaced by a quiet vow that resonates in every breath:

We will face Nerezza.

We will survive her illusions and her manipulations.

And if she dares to strike at what we share, she’ll learn the gargoyle she once twisted beyond recognition has grown wise enough—and strong enough—to stand against her darkness.

I hold Sariah tighter, letting the faint dawn’s glimmer on the horizon signal the end of this tumultuous night. The first appearance of Nerezza has shaken us to the core, yet I feel a renewed fire burning in my soul. My guilt no longer shackles me completely; my determination to protect Sariah—and to keep her from turning into the monster Nerezza claims she could be—fuels my every breath.

Tomorrow, we move closer to Snowfall Glen, closer to answers. But for now, in the last hours of night, I guard the woman who awakened me. Despite the turmoil swirling around us, a fragile hope sparks in my chest.Nerezza won’t break us.

As the sky grays with approaching dawn, I kiss Sariah’s temple, a silent promise that I’ll stand by her side, no matter what horrors the day brings.

11

SARIAH

Istruggle to keep my balance as the wind whips past, sending loose gravel skittering across the rocky ledge. Kaelith and I have been traveling nonstop since that harrowing encounter with Nerezza’s apparition, searching for a path through these twisting mountains that might lead us to Snowfall Glen. Our nerves are frayed. Every distant echo in the ravines sets our hearts pounding, and every shadow overhead rouses fear that Nerezza’s warped gargoyles have found us.

The days blur: hunger gnaws, the chill stings, and the tension between Kaelith and me sometimes flares. We skirt each other in awkward silence at times, weighed down by the memory of Nerezza’s taunts. Yet we share fleeting moments of closeness when the fear overwhelms us—our tether humming with a quiet comfort that reminds me we’re in this fight together.

Now, as afternoon light slants across the jagged slopes, we pause near a narrow trail twisting upward between two sheer cliffs. Scraggly pines cling to the rocky ground, their roots twisted around boulders in a desperate attempt to survive. Kaelith crouches beside me, scanning the path with cautious eyes. His wings remain folded tight, a sign of how tense he feels. My brand itches beneath my glove, that constant dull ache telling me trouble lies close at hand.

“Do you sense anything?” I ask softly, trying not to disturb the hush. My voice comes out rough, laced with fatigue.

Kaelith exhales, the faintest trace of vapor drifting in the cool air. “No illusions—yet,” he murmurs. “But something’s off. The wind is carrying strange echoes.” He tilts his head, listening. A pulse of protective anger flickers through our tether, hinting at how ready he is for a fight. “We should move carefully.”

I nod, standing. My entire body aches: bruises, half-healed cuts, and the constant anxiety eating at me. But we can’t stop. Snowfall Glen, if we’re even on the right path, offers our only hope of finding allies to stand against Nerezza—and maybe gleaning how to break or manage this bond in a way that won’t destroy us.

We climb the twisting path, boots scraping on loose stone. The sunlight overhead feels weak, as though the day itself has grown exhausted. Kaelith paces just ahead, watchful, while I remain a step behind, scanning the cliffs overhead for ambush. Each step takes concentration, the grade steep enough to threaten a tumble if I’m careless. I catch glimpses of Kaelith’s runes glowing faintly whenever his muscles flex. That subtle glow is strangely reassuring—like a beacon in hostile terrain.

We round a jagged bend in the trail, and my breath freezes in my throat. Standing across the path, partially silhouetted by the angled sun, is a figure I’ve dreaded encountering again: Drayveth. He blocks our way with calm arrogance, staff in hand. My heart slams hard against my ribs.He’s here. Again.And this time, he isn’t alone.

Flanking him are at least six other purna, all bearing the same brand on their wrists I once shared with pride. My old coven insignia, twisted by Drayveth’s authority. They’re armed: some hold staves pulsing with low-level necromantic energy, others clutch daggers that flicker with pale greenish runes. My palm goes sweaty around my own staff, which I’ve kept strapped to my back. Kaelith halts, wings bristling. A silent wave of tension runs through our tether, locking us both in high alert.

Drayveth inclines his head in greeting, a mockery of courtesy. He’s tall, robed in black embroidered with silver threads. His once-kind face is now a mask of cold resolve and bitterness. “Sariah,” he says, voice carrying easily through the thin mountain air. “You’ve caused me quite a bit of trouble.”

I can’t help but bristle.The man who raised me from a novice to an adept, now looking at me like I’m an enemy.“Drayveth,” I respond, forcing my voice not to tremble. “You won’t turn me in to Nerezza, I hope?” The quip rings hollow, but I cling to bravado.

He snorts, ignoring my jab. “You keep running, Sariah. You left our coven behind for…this.” His gaze slices toward Kaelith, lips twisting in disgust. “A gargoyle, of all creatures? Have you truly sunk so low?”

Kaelith growls softly, tail scraping the rock in warning. I sense the violent urge in him, to lash out and end this confrontation before Drayveth can spew more venom. But Drayveth’s allies stand poised. If we fight now, we might be overrun.And I refuse to see more bloodshed if it can be avoided.My battered limbs twitch with dread.We’re outnumbered.

“What do you want?” I demand, trying to keep my voice steady. My pulse hammers. Drayveth and I share too much history—he was once my mentor, a figure I trusted. Now he hunts me like a rabid hound.

He lifts his chin. “I want you to do your duty. Return to the coven. Renounce this gargoyle. Kill him, if you must. You know what rumors swirl, Sariah—that you’re dabbling in forbidden magic, doomed to become another Nyxari. That brand on your wrist is already tarnished.” His eyes gleam with a sharp, dangerous light. “If you come back to us, sever this bond, you might salvage your place among the purna. But if you persist… we’ll be forced to treat you as an abomination.”

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