Page 62 of Scourged

“Sebastian?” Mariah’s voice was a soft shudder, thick and clouded with all the same emotions he felt.

Or … thatshefelt. It had all become the same to Andrian, so much raging magic surrounding him that he wasn’t sure where he ended, and she began.

The dagger lifted from his neck, just a touch. “Yes. We’re here, My Queen. We’re getting you out.”

Mariah trembled again, before rushing forward. Andrian’s heart leaped with joy?—

—Until she brushed past him and leapt into Sebastian’s open embrace. The dagger finally left his throat, and Andrian turned as Sebastian clutched Mariah to him, face burrowed in her neck.

“We’re here,” he repeated. “It’s us.”

Andrian gritted his teeth at Sebastian’s crooning words.

Mariah sniffed and stepped back, staring up at Sebastian. “Us?’”

The wind shifted as five more shapes melted from the shadows of the gardens, all armed to the teeth, faces wearing mixed expressions of exuberant joy … and terrible rage.

The latter seemed to be mostly directed at him. He shifted his stance, uneasy as they circled him. He knew these men but did not know the way they stared at him.

Like he was an enemy.

Mariah, though, didn’t seem to notice. She sobbed again, before launching herself at Feran, Drystan, and Trefor. She turned finally to Matheo, tears tracking down her cheeks, and was about to wrap her arms around him when she halted.

A sixth shape had melted from the moonlit shadows. Instinct alone sent Andrian lurching forward, grasping for Mariah’s hand. He ignored the hissed warnings from the other Armature, just as he shoved back the sting as she flinched away from him again.

It was a huge cat, black as the night around them, stalking into the aura of Mariah’s glowing skin. Its hazel eyes gleamed as bright as the wicked claws peeking from its paws, its glistening fangs flashing as its maw lifted into a snarl.

Matheo cast a glance at the giant cat before turning back to Mariah and Andrian, a grin on his face. “Relax,” he said, much too calmly as the predator stalked closer, glowing eyes evaluating its prey.

“Relax? That’s a fuckingpanther,” Mariah whispered, words strained and scratched with fear.

Andrian had never heard terror in her voice like that.

Matheo hadn’t, either, because he paused as well, eyes going wide as his smile softened. “Yes, but it’s also a friend. She’ll explain when we get out of here, but it seems there’s more to our old friends from Kreah than they first let on.”

Kreah?Andrian gaped at Matheo before looking again at the panther. It had dropped the snarl, sitting back on its haunches as its tail swished across the pebbled garden path.

What the actual fuck was going on?

“We can chat and catch up about everything later. It’s been a long nine weeks. We need to leave.” Sebastian’s voice was low and rough, and the others shifted into movement. “It’s way too open out here. Which … how did you even get out here, Mariah?”

But Andrian’s mind had caught on to Sebastian’s earlier words. He whirled to Sebastian before Mariah could answer.

“Did you just say nineweeks?”

He didn’t care about Sebastian’s frustrated curse at him. Didn’t care about the others circling them, trying to herd them into shelter. His mind was blank as he turned to Mariah.

She glanced at him once, quickly, before shuttering her stare and stepping away. Letting herself get swept up by Sebastian and Drystan and that massive black cat watching them with unnerving alertness.

He made himself look around him. At where they were. Made himself look ather.

He’d noticed the gardens after he’d first slammed into consciousness, the bond freshly formed and roaring between them. But in the haze, he’d only focused on Mariah’s presence, on the bridge now thrumming between their souls. He hadn’t looked closely at her appearance, or at the castle rising out of the gardens.

He did now, though.

She wore a pale pink dress, short and brushing her thighs, the tulle dirty and torn. Her long, dark hair hung in limp tangled knots down her back, and her skin was too pale, too dirty. Its golden glow was gone, replaced by a sickly sheen.

When she looked at him again over her shoulder, he noticed how gaunt her face was. How frail she was. Mariah had always been a force of nature, formidable in both a ballgown and in the training ring.

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