Page 69 of When Sisters Collide
“Kat, run!” Arnza roared.
She didn’t hesitate. She dropped the shield in front of her like a battering ram and lunged forward just as the Grey-Eyed Maiden’s barrier crashed down, swallowing her in searing light.
Agony tore through her.
The barrier burned straight through her clothes and into her skin, carving pain across every nerve. Screams ripped out of her throat, and the stench of burning flesh filled her lungs.
Still, she pushed.
The weight of the magic pressed in from all sides, trying to smother her, to break her—but she shoved forward, step by step, through fire and torment, until?—
The pressure vanished.
She stumbled through the last edge of the barrier and collapsed hard onto the grass, the golden shield clattering beside her with a dullthud.
Agony like she’d never known pinned her in place. Her body curled, every nerve afire. She couldn’t breathe—only gasp in shallow pulls of air as pain wracked her in waves. Her heart thundered, erratic, each beat ready to tear her chest apart.
She couldn’t see anything clearly, only the scorched, bleeding ruin of her arms. Flesh charred red-black, skin peeling away in ragged patches. The raw sight twisted her stomach, but she couldn’t look away.
Pinaria had been right. It was madness. Stupid, reckless, desperate. And now she was broken, lying in the open, exposed for any enemy patrol to find. She had to move, crawl into the trees like they’d planned, but her limbs refused to obey.
She was trapped in her own burned body.
Nestur’s shield dissolved from her arm in a flicker of golden light. In the distance, voices shouted. Pinaria and Arnza screamed her name, but the words were lost, muffled by the roaring in her ears and the screaming of her nerves.
Without warning, something blotted out the sun.
A figure knelt beside her, casting a long shadow over her, and she could do nothing but blink up through the haze of pain.
Dirty blond hair. Blue eyes. And a wicked smile on his lips.
“Well, if you were dying to see me again, sweetheart, you should have sent word,” Nik drawled. “I’d have gladly opened the gates for you.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ALENA
The woman before her was a ghost—a distant memory from another time, another land. Yet Leywani stood there, real and breathing.
Alena’s mind reeled at the impossibility. “You… how?” she stammered, switching to the Freefolk tongue. “What are you doing here?”
Leywani only shook her head, glancing at the silent camp. “Not here. Inside.” She gestured towards the nearest barrack and slipped ahead.
Phoebe’s hand shot out, gripping Alena’s arm. “Can we trust her?”
“I…” Once, Alena would have saidyeswithout hesitation. Leywani had been like another sister, Katell’s closest friend. But time and hardship changed people. “I don’t know.”
Phoebe gave a sharp nod and followed. Her silver eye swept the camp, but the night remained still—no guards, no footsteps, only the distantclangof the quarry.
They reached the weathered barrack, its planks warped with age, the doorway veiled by a stained scrap of cloth. Leywani brushed it aside and vanished within.
Inside, the air was damp with sweat and mildew. Dozens of empty straw mattresses lay in rigid lines across the hard-packed floor.
“No one’s here,” Leywani murmured, letting the curtain fall. She lit two oil lamps, shadows clawing long across the rows of beds. “The others won’t return until dawn.”
Her gaze found Alena’s, and something broke. Her trembling smile wavered before she pulled Alena into a sudden, desperate embrace.
Her ribs were sharp beneath her tunic, her scent still achingly familiar.
