Page 59 of What Lies Within Blood & Heirs

Kill. She wanted tokillthat female—that snake. But how could she kill a monster of dreams and nightmares?—

Garrik.Her stomach hollowed out.

The Smokeshadows. There was a reason they were here and he wasn’t. Was he dreaming? Trapped in a horrific nightmare with no way of escape?

Alora tore herself from the window. Without any reasonable sense and barefoot, she hurled herself for the tent door and stepped into the firesite. But it wasn’t there. No dying amber glow of embers, nor her friends’ tents.

No. She wasn’t in camp anymore.

Alora’s bare feet gripped against cold bloodstained graystone. She stared down a dimly lit hallway lined by flaming torches and those same bloodcurdling screams. They surrounded her like water, making it impossible to determine from which door they came.

Bile burned her throat. Her bones trembled.

Garrik. Garrik. Garrik.She had to find him?—

A throat-ripping scream cried out. Surely, he was being ripped apart by the viciousness of it.

This time, she noticed the quick bevel in a blackwood door. Fire coursed through her veins, and with the speed of a starburst, Alora raced to it, creaking hinges as the door pushed open.

The view turned her scorching veins to ice.

Broken and mangled. Mutilated bloody corpses in scaled armor were scattered around the room. But her eyes only focused on the bloodstained white sheets of a four-post bed dripping with cold iron chains.

Her body refused to move. Refused to breathe.

Garrik lay bleeding and tightly bound, unclothed, on the bed. The skin on his raw wrists and ankles peeled beneath each iron shackle attached to the steel bedposts. His powerful body spasmed, horrendously ripped apart from thighs to chest. Blood rained from the sheets into a pool beneath the bed. The amount alone proved it had been spilling for some time.

Ombré black fingernails dug deep into his abdomen, producing an excruciating flow.

Fromher.

The serpent with long obsidian hair. The female with Bloodlusted abyss for eyes. Fully bare, she straddled his waist. Moving against him, wickedly laughing with each pain-ridden scream caused by her piercing nails.

His scars. He’d mentioned in the barn what had happened to him. But this …

Alora’s heart shattered into fury-filled pieces. Even if a nightmare,thisembodied a vicious memory. Driven by unconquerable rage, she threw her hands in front of her, aiming for the female.

The female only snickered, hints of hissing merged within it.

Her starfire—it wasn’t there. That seething pulse consistently burning through her veins and flesh … was gone.

Garrik shuddered a breath as his tortured, traitorous body uncontrollably bowed against her. Drawing his bonds taut, indignant shame overcame the silver of his eyes.

“Look around you. You’ve failed them. Failed them all,” the female hissed.

Smokeshadows desperately struggled to drag the female from Garrik’s lap, but they failed to reach them as if an invisible wall rendered them impenetrable.

“Look at them. See what you’ve done.”

Burning flames in her eyes, Alora shifted her gaze around the room in desperation. Whatever force pinned her feet to the floor only allowed her arms and head to move. It was all she could do. Utterly helpless. Useless against the invisible bonds.

And she saw them. All of them.

Black-armored Dragons, some faces she recognized. Calla. Draven…

Thalon.

Alora shuddered a terrible breath.

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