Page 146 of Burning Heir

I covered my ears as Emerich cried the most devastating howl I’d ever heard. He spread his wings wide, a green scale already hued gray as if the color had washed out within the moonlight.

“Damien,” I cried. “I need you. I need you to stay, to wake up… I’m sorry.”

But he was also Archer’s brother, Kian’s too. And I could never—never wish the pain I felt when Klaus passed on anyone.

For a moment, I thought how cruel I was to believe a title meant more than a life.

I pressed my hand on his cold cheek, and a tremor went through my body, and it took everything in me to keep my hand there against his stillness. I sobbed as I ran my hand over Emerich’s scales. “Breathe. Breathe. Damien! Fight it.”

But both bodies were too still. Had I done something wrong? I got to my shaking knees. “Damien, you need to live. You need to fucking live.”

There’d been seven keys. With two more lives to save. Why was this not working?

I waited an hour, resting on his chest, dirt caking my swollen cheeks. My hands numbed from clutching his cheek.

Damien was dead, and he wasn’t coming back. I needed to leave.

I peeled myself off the cold ground, my body trembling. Blood smeared the inside of my mouth with every pounding beat of my heart.

Jagged peaks rimmed the land, and flocks of wild wyverns manically carved shapes into the clouds above. I was merely a mouse to them.

They spotted me.

The wyverns swooped low, talons outstretched, ready to tear through my leathers. I struck a flame at the nearest beast’s neck, but it wasn’t enough. Both palms faced the cold air as my sweat mixed with the blood clinging to my forehead.

The flame erupted from my scream, knocking me onto my backside.

“Enough! I’ve had enough!”

Three wyverns roared in response, releasing a storm of quilled spikes. I buried my face in my sleeve as the projectiles pierced my leather, biting into the flesh beneath.

I gritted my teeth and forced the remaining quell in my veins forward.

A golden griffin descended from the night sky, talons ripping into oily scales. Her beak snapped at a wyvern’s face, scattering its quills to the winds.

Setrephia.

Her feathers stretched wide as she hit the ground, crouching low enough for me to understand she wanted me to ride her.

She wanted to save me.

But where’s Charles?

The remaining wyvern whirled and fled south. I climbed onto Setrephia, leaning into her soft feathers and avoiding the healing scar near her left wing.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

Her sharp eyes turned toward the mountains in the distance.

That’s when I saw them—the masses, guards on foot, their armor gleaming under the moonlight as they marched toward the borders of Night. Something had attacked the walls, leaving rubble and broken stone scattered along the fences.

Archer wouldn’t allow enemies to breach his wards.

Archer was dead. He had to be.

Why had Damien portaled us so far? The plan was to stop in Heit. He wasn’t strong enough to transport us this distance.

Setrephia veered low, wings stirring dust and debris as the guards below pointed at the sky, their lips moving with shouted commands I couldn’t hear. I was too weak to feel my quell,drained and chilled within the shadows of whatever ripple remained of Archer’s wards.

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