Page 53 of The Kingdom's Reckoning
Hesitantly, Kallie cracked open an eye and peered through the dust plume. She stifled her cough as she inhaled a puff of dirt. Swatting away the debris, she spotted the ball of shadows beneath a pile of broken branches and swallowed her scream.
She should run.
She should flee.
She should doanythingother than stare.
Yet Kallie couldn’t get herself to move. Her feet were locked to the ground.
Something akin to a groan spilled from the heap, and Kallie’s lungs dropped to her stomach. The sound was not animalistic, but human. That couldn’t have been right, though. What kind of human was?—
The heap moved, and something shiny and black caught in the moonlight.
Was that a…was that awing?
Shit. Shit.
Where was her dagger? She scanned the area, searching for it.
Two feet away, steel sparkled in the sliver of moonlight that spilled onto the ground. Without hesitation, Kallie dove for it, snatching it. The hilt was slick from the rain, and she tightened her grip around it.
They’d come. The drakonises. Domitius' army. They were here. They had found her.
The wing moved, and red orbs popped open. Kallie’s jaw dropped. She recognized that snout, that lopsided tilt of the drakonis' mouth.
"Nyrri? What are you?—"
A black leather saddle with brilliant stones that sparkled in the moonlight caught her eye. One of the straps was broken, its edges frayed.
Kallie sprinted forward.
Her knees smacked onto the ground. Ignoring the spike of pain vibrating up her bones, she frantically lifted and pushed the drakonis, searching, searching, searching.
She was wrong. She had to be.
Graeson wouldn’t have risked flying here. He wouldn’t have been so impudent as to do something so stupid as that.
Her movements became frantic; her breathing labored. Tears stung the backs of her eyes as she failed to move Nyrri, her body too slick from the rain. Was Nyrri wounded, too?
"Nyrri, you need to move. I can’t—I can’t lift you," Kallie cried out.
The drakonis released a short whine and lifted her wing that was tucked against her body. The dim light of the moon caught on raven-black hair.
Graeson.
Kallie scurried over to the other side, nearly trampling Nyrri to get to him. Her knees slid across the wet ground. Her hand trembled as she reached out. This was all her fault. She knew he would follow. If she had just gotten on that stupid boat, this wouldn’t have happened.
He had to be alive. He had to be. She would know if he was dead. The bond?—
Kallie hadn’t accepted the bond, though. Was that even how the soul bond worked? Would she have known if he was dead if she had?
Her vision blurred, and her throat seized up.
Nyrri uncurled herself around Graeson, revealing his limp form. Mud was smeared on his face. His shirt was soaked and stained, but Kallie couldn’t make out the color in the dark.
"Graeson?" she called out, her voice hoarse.
He didn’t move, didn’t even flinch.
