Page 116 of An Empress of Earth & Darkness

She fought to keep herself upright, its dying screams still ringing in her ear.

“We need to get out of this room,” Artem called. He threw a knife into the back of a demon that had been trying to work its claws into Breighly’s vital organs. Breighly took that opportunity to sink her teeth into its neck and rip it open.

Emara flinched.

“Get Emara to the door,” Torin yelled as another bat-like demon dropped to the floor. Torin wasted no time hacking at limbs and wings until he could get a clear shot at its heart.

Its gaze found Emara as it died, and she could have sworn it smiled at her, revealing rows of sharp teeth. A chill crawled all over her body, pushing fear from her stomach into her throat.

“Everyone, retreat. Now! This room has us all caged like sitting ducks,” Torin roared as he neared the door. Artem pulled Emara away from the dead creature. “We have the relic, now we need to get back out of here.”

A sudden sound stilled everyone, even the beasts behind them. Torin looked at Artem as Emara glanced at Breighly.

Arlo Stryker’s face appeared in the threshold of the door, his cheeks flushed. “Gideon’s unit have just sounded their horn.”

Gideon raced through the temple with his team at his heels. Every few strides he would look back to see if Sybil was keeping pace with the hunters. And she was. Gideon had to get to the other team. He was the quickest, so he would reach them first. He just hoped it wouldn’t be too late.

He sprinted ahead, trying to conjure up the temple map in his mind. He took a sharp left down a hallway, his hunting boots pounding the stunning blue marble floor. Taking another quick turn, he landed in a huge congregational room. A chill hit him, bringing him to a stop. He pulled an arrow from his quiver and nocked it, ready for something to jump out at him.

Pews sat low to the ground and multi-coloured cushions littered the space. This was where the greats of the kingdom would have kneeled to worship centuries ago. There was a strangeness about how they were scattered across the room. Although he couldn’t see any bodies, there was certainly a sign of a struggle.

Walking through the middle section of the messy prayer pillows, Gideon released a breath. It swirled into the air, reminding him of training in the winter months. It shouldn’t have been so cold. Something dark was close. Every hunting instinct he ever had sprung to attention, and the deep-rooted itch to fight stirred in his blood.

Footsteps and panting breaths told Gideon without looking around that the others had caught up. He turned for a moment, knowing Marcus would cover him, and his eyes found her. Her cheeks were flushed from running and her hair had managed to form its own pattern on her head, loose curls dangling everywhere. Her beautiful big eyes looked at him with fear. Sybil’s magic would be ringing through her bones. She still clutched the paper they had found, her knuckles strained white. A moment passed between the two of them, so many things unsaid. They might have run out of time to say everything that lingered between them.

“Whatever happens, if I tell you to run, you run,” Gideon whispered to Sybil, and his voice was raspier than he could control. She nodded back at him. Reluctantly, he looked to Marcus. “Marcus, when we get out of the temple, I need you to take her out of here. Find a place and stay low for a few days.”

“Gideon—” Marcus tried to reason.

“Being second-in-command, it’s all I ask of you,” Gideon intercepted. “She comes first.”

Gideon realised he would do anything to keep her safe, and it went above and beyond just the guardianship. His heart felt things for Sybil that a guard’s heart shouldn’t feel.

Movement behind a pillar caught his eye, and Gideon aimed his arrow toward it. Before he could see a face, he saw two familiar swords. With a sharp exhale, he lowered his bow.

“Torin,” he breathed, relief filling his lungs.

His brother strolled out from behind the column and stood in front of an altar. He looked untouched by battle, and that was a good sign. His icy blue gaze found Gideon. “I need you to take your men and leave.”

Gideon’s brow pulled down as his brother stood in front of him, unmoving. “Why would you have me leave? Did you get what we came for? We sounded the horn because—”

“You must take my command and leave.”

“Torin, you know I am not going anywhere. I am your second-in-command; I am with you until the end.”

“You must leave,” Torin roared, and his body was so rigid that he almost looked in pain.

Was he hurt?

Gideon stilled.

Torin’s gaze pierced him like a dagger. “You do as your commander asks, Warrior.”

Gideon shifted on his feet. “Where is Emara?” he asked. Why was Torin alone?

Torin stepped closer, his large body travelling with sleek ableness. “She is outside in the temple gardens.”

“And did you obtain the Stone?” he asked again.

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