Page 71 of Feral Gods
The realization settles into my bones with the weight of inevitable truth as I make my way to the sanctuary's highest point. From here, I can survey our entire defensive perimeter, identify weaknesses, plan contingencies. Focus on what I know—battle, protection, sacrifice.
As the sun climbs toward midday, I make my decision. I will ensure their safety against the coming attack. I will fulfill my duty as commander and protector. And then I will remove myself from Kaia's life before I can cause further harm.
Some monsters, after all, are beyond redemption.
18
KAIA
Consciousness returns in fragments—the cool press of stone beneath my back, the tang of medicinal herbs in the air, a dull throbbing at my temple that pulses in time with my heartbeat. I open my eyes to find Zephyr leaning over me, turquoise gaze intent as he applies a salve to my forehead.
"She wakes," he announces, relief evident in his typically measured voice.
Thane appears in my field of vision, crimson eyes shadowed with concern. "How do you feel, little warrior?"
"Like I've been trampled by a herd of mountain oxen," I mutter, attempting to sit up. The world tilts alarmingly, forcing me back to the stone altar. "What happened?"
The two gargoyles exchange a glance heavy with unspoken meaning.
"The ceiling collapsed during the... disagreement," Zephyr explains carefully. "You were struck by falling debris."
Memories flood back Ravik's fury, the violent confrontation, the terrifying sound of stone giving way above us. And before that, the possessive rage in Ravik's amber eyes when he saw Zephyr touch me.
"Where is he?" I ask, though I already suspect the answer.
Thane's massive shoulders tense. "Maintaining the perimeter. He hasn't returned to the inner chambers since..."
Since he nearly killed me in his jealous rage, the unfinished sentence implies. Except that's not what happened—not exactly. Through the fog of my returning memory, I recall the horror on Ravik's face as I fell, his desperate lunge to protect me from the falling stones.
"How long have I been unconscious?"
"Nearly a full day," Zephyr replies, helping me into a sitting position with gentle hands. "Your injury wasn't severe, but the body often requires time to recover from such shocks."
A day. An entire day lost while our enemies draw closer, while the fractures in our fragile family widen into chasms. I swing my legs over the edge of the altar, ignoring the renewed pounding in my head.
"I need to speak with him."
"Absolutely not," Thane growls, stepping forward to block my path. "He's unstable, unpredictable. Until he masters his possessive instincts?—"
"He won't hurt me," I interrupt, meeting Thane's concerned gaze steadily.
"He already has." Thane gestures to the bandage at my temple.
"Unintentionally," I insist. "And that's precisely why he's staying away—he believes he's protecting me from himself."
Zephyr moves to stand beside Thane, their unified front more frustrating than their individual objections. "Your assessment has merit," the scholarly gargoyle concedes, "but your physical condition makes immediate confrontation inadvisable."
"We don't have the luxury of time." I slide from the altar to prove my point, suppressing a wince as my bare feet touch thecold stone floor. "King Kres's forces approach from the south, purna from the east, and our strongest fighter has exiled himself out of misplaced guilt. The sanctuary lies damaged from your confrontation. And you're worried about my headache?"
Thane's expression darkens, wings mantling slightly at my challenge. "Your safety is non-negotiable."
"My agency is non-negotiable," I counter, straightening to my full height—still laughably small compared to their massive forms, but what I lack in stature I make up for in conviction. "I'm not asking permission, Thane. I'm informing you of my decision."
Something shifts in his crimson gaze—surprise, then a grudging respect. He exchanges another glance with Zephyr, who gives an almost imperceptible nod.
"Then at least allow me to accompany you to the upper levels," Thane concedes, his tone making it clear this is his final offer. "He's taken position in the northern watchtower."
"Alone," I specify, softening my stance slightly in recognition of their concern. "I'll call if I need you, but this conversation must happen without an audience."
