Lucian knew now that no amount of warning would have ever prepared him for her.
“M’vitra pour vestry. Non refert l’coût.” The words of his native tongue came unbidden, pouring out in a guttural rush.
My life for yours. No matter the cost.
It was a Guardian’s most sacred vow. There were no words, in any language, that held more meaning for him, and right now it was the only thing he had to give. Brushing his knuckles across her cheek, Lucian leaned down to press his lips to Effie’s forehead.
“I’ll find a way to bring you back, fledgling. Or I’ll die trying.”
Chapter 2
A low snarl echoed around the empty room as she pushed herself into a tight crouch. Thoughts were nothing more than fragments as Effie squinted into the darkness.
Cold.
Dark.
Hungry.
Safe?
A tentative sniff confirmed that she was alone, but it did little to calm the echo of rage pulsing through her. There was another’s scent in the air. Faded, but distinguishable. An essence of midnight and musk.
His . . .
Guardian.
A deep, wet rumble filled the room as her anger spiked. He was alive; had left her here. Likely to rot.
Foolish male.
A dark grin stretched across her face as she climbed off the bed and crawled across the floor.
Never safe. Not from me.
Coming for you.
Pale light shone through a crack under the door, and she lowered her face down to peek out into the space beyond.
Empty.
A triumphant growl vibrated low in her throat.
She slid a hand up the pock-marked wood, searching for a handle. Her smile faltered when her fingers moved over cool but jagged metal.
Broken.
Wood thundered as she pounded her fists into the flat surface. The door shook and trembled, but it did not open.
Trapped.
Scuttling backward, she pushed herself into a corner of the small room. Her prey would return. She could wait. A spider in her web.
He loved this body. Would not harm it. But he would not be so lucky.
Blood would flow free.
And it would never be hers.
Chapter 3
“What do you mean gone?” Ronan snarled, his blue eyes bloodshot.
“It’s an obvious enough statement,” Lucian replied in a low voice, not looking up from the dagger he was using to pick blood from his nails.
Ronan let out a strangled sound that was a cross between a disbelieving laugh and a growl. “And you didn’t think to keep looking for her?”
Lucian’s ire spiked. “I’m not the one who left her behind in the first place,” he said, eyes snapping up to pin the Shield in place.
Twin patches of red bloomed in Ronan’s cheeks and he had the grace to look away. Lucian knew it was a low blow and that nothing Ronan could have done would have changed the outcome, but he wasn’t sure he could ever forgive him.
“Did you find a body?” Reyna asked, placing her hand on Ronan’s back.
“What do you think?” Lucian returned, his voice just barely on the side of sounding human.
He’d anticipated the interrogation, but it did little to alleviate the bubbling anger inside of him. Each second they spent squabbling amongst themselves was another that Effie was left to deteriorate. He could not afford to let this carry on much longer, even if he was the one misleading them.
“How many of us are left?” Lucian asked, twisting to face Kael.
The Guardian’s green eyes were so dark they were almost black. “Just under thirty total; that includes the citizens and what’s left of the Keepers.”
Lucian’s stomach dropped. “So few?”
“Aye.”
His eyes closed, a shudder working its way down his body. So many lives lost. They’d been ignorant fools, all of them; their faith in the citadel’s safeguards misplaced. They mistakenly believed their safety was assured since the citadel had never fallen before. Just because an attack had not come did not mean they’d always been immune. And now, due to their naivety, the Keepers had been all but exterminated and their town demolished.
As a Guardian, Lucian should have known better, should have been prepared for this. As far as he was concerned, he was just as much to blame for this attack as the one who initiated it. These deaths were on him.
Regardless of fault, or that the battle was over—for now—they could not remain here. Not when they were little more than sitting ducks waiting for the enemy to come back and finish the job.
“And where will we go?”
Lucian glanced at the hooded figure standing apart from the others. “Somewhere safe.”
“The citadel was supposed to be safe.”
The note of censure was unmistakable, and Lucian bristled at the less than subtle dig. “No one is ever truly safe from betrayal.”
A slow nod was his only response.
He spared the member of the Triumvirate a final hard glare before returning his attention to the bedraggled figures around him. Effie wasn’t the only one missing from their ranks. Kieran hadn’t been located either. Lucian wished he could muster some semblance of regret at the Dreamer’s apparent demise, but the worm had been nothing but a pain in his ass for years. Good riddance. May the Mother have better luck with him than they did.
“The Broken Vale,” Lucian declared, the answer coming to him almost without conscious thought.
“The Vale? It’s little more than a ruin. We’d be better off staying here,” Ronan protested.
“Nothing is ever what it appears to be on the surface,” Kael said.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Ronan snapped.
Kael quirked a brow. “The Vale is home to many survivors, if one only knows where to look.”
“You fucking Keepers and your vague platitudes,” Ronan groaned.
“It’s a sound plan,” Kael said, ignoring Ronan’s grumbling.
Lucian nodded his thanks. “It’s close enough that we won’t have to travel for long. If we leave tomorrow, we should reach the Vale within a couple of days.”
“Do you really think your people are fit for that kind of travel?” Reyna asked.
“We don’t have a choice,” Lucian replied. “The Kaelpas stones we still have aren’t nearly strong enough to move everyone, even with our numbers so diminished. Sticking together and caravanning is the only option.”
Kael shot him a pointed look. Lucian ignored it. He’d deal with how to move Effie when he had to. For now, they had other things to worry about.
“We need to salvage what we can,” Lucian said, rubbing the back of his neck as if it could do something to relieve the vice-like tension that had settled there.
“Is it even safe to comb through the wreckage?” Ronan asked.
“Probably not, but we have to risk it. Millennia’s worth of prophecies will be lost if we don’t try.”
“They will be lost regardless.”
Lucian scowled at the man hidden within the scarlet robes. “Would you rather we didn’t bother?”
“By all means, search, but much has already been lost. The little you are able to recover will be less than a drop in the ocean.”