Page 80 of Of Wind and Terror

And then I lose myself to oblivion.

30

KASSANDRA

One tick, Blaze is behind us.

The next, he’s gone.

I spin away from the pile of bones, my heart in the general vicinity of my throat, and search the webs for Blaze’s shock of auburn hair and towering frame. The man is a literal giant. How can he be missing?

Panic sinks its claws into me, leaving behind jagged, bloody lines.

Aleksander places a comforting hand on my bicep, directly over my glove.

“Stay beside me, cherub,” he warns, his tone devoid of its usual mirth and humor.

He surveys our surroundings with a grim expression.

“Where is Blaze?” I sign, knowing he won’t understand me but needing to express my worry.

Even without knowing Falkan, Aleksander must’ve gotten the gist of my question.

His lips thin, and he deftly flips his favorite dagger around in his hand. “It seems as if your Fall Prince ran into a bit of trouble.”

Blaze is the strongest fae I know. If he got attacked…

My heart palpitates, and I begin to scan the webs with renewed vigor, searching for Blaze’s massive frame or Treyton’s pink hair.

What if those wraiths attacked them? Ate them? I immediately rush to the worst-case scenario.

It’s like falling into a pit—you windmill your arms, scrambling for purchase, as your stomach drops out from under you. Darkness encroaches the edges of your vision, and you know you’re going to go splat. It’s inevitable. Yet all you can do is fall, fall, fall, fall as air rushes past you, slicing at your cheeks like the very tip of a sword.

Treyton and Blaze are dead.

Dying.

Hurt.

Bleeding out somewhere.

But even as I think that, a sense of warmth engulfs me. It’s like I told Blaze earlier—I know Treyton is still alive. I can feel it, the way I can my own erratic heartbeat. Blaze is still alive too.

I don’t question how I know this. Now isn’t the time.

I need to find and save them.

Before it’s too late.

The clock is ticking, and it seems to be counting down to the males’ final moments. Once again, I can’t tell you how I know that. But whatever this feeling is—whether it’s intuition or something immensely more sinister—causes ice to cascade down my spine. My hands feel clammy beneath my gloves.

“Cherub. Cherub. Cherub!” Aleksander abruptly grabs my shoulders and spins me to face him.

His hands are warm against my skin. Comforting, almost. That’s one word I never would’ve thought to associate with the tall, muscular elf.

His earnest blue eyes seize my own as he searches my face. “They’re going to be okay. Do you hear me? I won’t let anything happen to them or to you. You just have to trust me.”

I study him as intently as he seems to be studying me, searching for any sign of duplicity. I’m not stupid. I know he doesn’t get along with the others. He always stares at them as if he’s one tick away from slicing their heads clean off their shoulders.

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