Page 49 of Between Despair and Hope

The pain was immense.

The ground shook, air blew out the torches, and I heard running water somewhere nearby. Groaning as I curled into myself, focusing every thought and nerve-ending toward control, I barely noticed her hands on me.

Heat enveloped my ankles, my knees, my hips, and I moaned. Gritting my teeth through the pain, it took me a moment to realize the healing warmth was helping balance my involuntary reaction to being free from the suffocating basalt. It still hurt, but I wasn’t bringing the palace down around us. Diving deep into the burn, I rocked my body, letting her hands work over me.

“Rain, love, we have to go. Declan’s army is just across the plains. We can’t face them, not now. It’s taking too long to heal you with the lava rock so close. This is the best I can do for now.”

I didn’t know how long I’d been lying there, but when her voice spoke, it soothed, her fingertips dancing over my face. She leaned against the stone behind her, eyes closed, while she held my head in her lap.

When I pushed to sit, my joints didn’t flare with pain. My shoulder and elbow were still stiff in my good arm, and I knew my face wasn’t quite right. It felt less tight, but not completely healed. Even so, I was in a much better state after she’d taken care of me.

She stood, using the wall to help her up as she swayed. She clearly hadn’t listened to me and finished healing herself. When she held her hand out for me to grasp, I looked up and the angle caught me off guard. How many gods damn times had the shifter stood over me like this, pretending to be the woman I loved? I felt my heart pounding as I stared, and I knew she’d hear it. Her face was a mask of sadness as she watched me.

“She hurt you, didn’t she?” she asked, voice quaking.

I didn’t have the heart to answer as I took her hand and stood.

I let her lead me through the dungeons, up the stairs, and through a great hallway which crumbled from the surrounding fire. Since the floor to ceiling windows had blown out, we could see smoke billowing forth from the ruin. Gold dripped from the walls, the gilded decor melting and leaving puddles on what had once been rich carpeting. I pulled her back toward me as I spotted a beam about to fall, and I held her close. I tried not to think about it, to think about the shifter I’d just killed. The woman I strangled with my bare hands. That wasn’t Emma.

Not Emma. Not Emma.

This is real. This is Em.

And she rescued me. She came for me, this hell where Declan held me, this place that would risk her. She started forward, darting to the side of the hall unaffected by the fallen beam, never dropping my hand. And I followed. My body trusted her, knew this was her. I felt a hint of that golden bond, but I couldn’t bear to think about it. It couldn’t be intact—I’d feel it more forcefully. And the thought that she didn’t have my divinity to protect her had me seething alongside the ache of our broken connection.

Finally, we approached where the fire raged brightest. I’d thought it was her fire, but it wasn’t until we got closer that I knew for certain. The white flames had blown out the windows, and I looked for bodies as we walked, but found none. I knew, no matter their alliance, any sort of death would weigh on her. This appeared to be a connecting hall, an enclosed breezeway of sorts to another wing. I didn’t remember it from my arrival. It looked ornate, and I had a feeling Declan would be more upset about the destruction of the beautiful parts of his palace than anything else. I caught a glimpse outside and felt my jaw drop.

Everythingwas on fire.

“How?” I was in awe. She still had divinity left to heal me after she’d done all this. “Are you—you are the Beloved then? We were right?” Her steps faltered for a second before she turned to a window, probably contemplating climbing over and dropping to the ground below rather than forcing our way through the rubble.

“We were right. Hanwen and Ciarden blessed me during—all four gods have blessed me.” She wouldn’t look at me. I wondered what they’d done, and why she wouldn’t meet my gaze. Did it have something to do with Elora? Gods, I’d failed her in so many ways.

“I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say as I slipped past her, opting to climb through the window first so I could catch her. Sorrow emanated from her as I climbed over the frame, swinging my leg out. Her burdens had been heavy.

“Me too. Go, we need to hurry. Declan rifted to call the army before I found you.”

I nodded and swung my other leg over, landing hard on my feet from the small drop. My shoulder ached, and my ribs were sore. The beating I’d received hadn’t been exclusive to my face, and her healing hadn’t been enough. She climbed onto the frame a second later and turned her body, slipping her legs out to hang down from her fingertips before she dropped. I was there to grab her waist if she stumbled, but she didn’t need me.

That hit me harder than it should have.

We were in a small garden area, lush trees and greenery blocking our vision, but I knew what waited was fire and destruction. She pushed ahead of me, and we took off in a run. I heard a rift opening as we approached the edge of the private garden, and as we burst forth into the courtyard, I saw two things which surprised me.

The first was the stream of soldiers running through a single rift. Though we’d fought mostly mercenaries at the Cascade, the soldiers arriving through the rift were Folterrans; black shields with a jade serpent wrapping around bone made it clear. I breathed a sigh of relief when no more rifts opened, grateful Declan didn’t seem to have more at the ready.

The second thing which took me by surprise was the dragon charging at us. I threw Emmeline behind me, and she shouted as I turned and drew her sword from her hip. She was yelling as I squared off against the beast, but the sound of carnage drowned out her words. What fresh hell had Declan made for us to face? It wasn’t too large, perhaps the size of a small horse, but its maw was open with teeth the size of my hand, and a glint in its eyes told me it sought trouble. Emma latched onto my wrist, prying the sword from me.

“What are you—” I shouted, but the dragon launched itself, jumping from ten meters away and gliding on wings bigger than I imagined, before it slammed down on me. My arm was twisted above me, the sword fallen from my grasp. Claws dug into my shoulders, and I grunted at the weight. I closed my eyes, waiting for the teeth, and nothing could have shocked me more than when a rough, wet tongue slid its way up my chest, neck, and face.

“Divine fucking hell!” I desperately attempted to push the beast off me until Emma rapped it hard on the snout with her knuckles.

She was reprimanding a fucking dragon.

Sounding like a kicked dog, it whined as it eased off me, still hovering as it nudged my chest with its snout.

“He wants pets. But hurry, because we have to go,” she said.

I widened my eyes at her, bewildered. Was he her pet? Did this dragon belong to her? I reached out, patting its muzzle, not sure how to pet a creature with teeth like that and rough scales to go along with them.

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