Page 86 of Sold to the Nalgar
She could never go back to Earth.
She would never be the same.
And now, more than ever, she wanted to leap into the fire.
“Come,” Zarokh said, his voice a dark promise as he wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. “We take back what is mine.”
And down toward the burning city they went—together.
CHAPTER 43
The smoke hit first. A vicious, acrid sting that scalded Cecilia’s throat and made her eyes water. She doubled over for a breath, one hand pressed against her ribs, and then she saw it—saweverything.
The city below was burning.
The blackstone walls, once towering and unbreakable, lay fractured and bleeding fire. The gates were wide open, their jagged shadows stretching across streets slick with ash. The air trembled with the scream of engines—ships cutting low, their metal hulls slicing through the haze. Blazing towers leaned like dying giants, the spires glowing red against the twin suns.
She felt Zarokh still beside her. He stood at the rocky overlook like a carving of a god, the wind rippling through his dark hair. His jaw tightened as he took in the chaos below, and the silence around him deepened, thickened, until Cecilia’s skin prickled.
Then she saw them.
Soldiers. Armored in blood-red. Vuvak’s colors, as Zarokh had explained.
Her stomach turned.Vuvak.
Who was he? Another Nalgar, fierce and bloodthirsty like Zarokh. A faceless enemy.
She didn’t understand the brutal politics of this world, but she had picked her side.
Or, rather, the side—the overwhelming, indomitable force—had pickedher, and she had no choice but to see this through.
She glanced up at Zarokh’s face, and what she saw there made her shiver. He didn’t just look angry. He lookedbetrayed.
Velkar.
The name flickered through his expression like a shadow. And in that moment, Cecilia understood: someone on the inside had let this happen. Someone had handed the city over.
He was the traitor, Zarokh told her. He knew without a doubt. Only Velkar knew what could bring down Zarokh’s rule. Onlyheknew how to do it.
And Zarokh had trusted him.
She felt the sting of betrayal as keenly as any human.
As anyNalgar.
The growl that came from Zarokh’s chest didn’t sound human.
He moved. A blur of black and bronze down the path that wound toward the city. His strides were savage, reckless, and she stumbled to keep up. Her heart banged against her ribs as they descended. Below, chaos raged—Nalgar civilians screaming, ships strafing the streets with fire.
Cecilia’s fear spiked, but Zarokh didn’t hesitate.
He hit the ground like a storm, slamming into the first red-armored soldier that crossed his path. One strike—just one—and the man crumpled, lifeless. Another soldier came at him, blade raised. Zarokh’s arm moved faster than thought, and the enemy’s head spun free, thudding to the ground with a metallic clang.
Cecilia froze for a heartbeat. She’d seen violence before, but not like this. Not this fast, this brutal.
No sword.
No gun.
