Page 94 of Of Flames and Fallacies

“Yes, thanks to you.” He hands me back my sword. “We are so grateful for the King’s support.”

I absent-mindedly trace my thumb over the intertwined circles etched into the hilt.

Before I can respond, an elderly woman hisses in the back of the group. “Those rebels brought dragons.”

When I turn to Blackfell, my heart drops. A flare of red branches up into the sky, followed by thick, dark smoke choking out the light from the moon.

“Who sounded the horn?” I ask. “How do we know it was dragons?”

“Everyone knows the Carnyx is saved only for dragon sightings. And look at that fire. There’s no way that could have come from a few torches. It has to be dragonfire,” the woman answers.

“Did you use fire?”

“No?”

No dark figures dip between the clouds. Could someone have seen Daeja in the fleeting moments she might have been visible?

A dark mass of people head toward us from Blackfell. I take a few steps back, my hand gripping my sword. Others behind me gasp and point with shrill cries. As I ready myself to command the people behind me to run, every fear dissipates when I catch a glimmer of flame-red hair.

My hand releases my sword to the ground. “It’s okay, that’s our side.”

I don’t try to fight the urge to race to Cole—I fly to him, nearly tackling him to the ground. Burying my head into his chest, I silently thank the stars, gods, and everything sacred he’s alive. The scent of smoke, blood, and metal washes over me. Sweat mixed with fire.

He hugs me back.

Relief floods my soul, and I pull back to face him, almost forgetting I can’t kiss him. The temptation dies quickly at how close I am to his face. Blood splatters his skin, his red hair matted with it. My stomach flips, and we take a step back from each other.

Cole stiffens as he notices the group of civilians behind me.

“It’s okay. They were the hostages,” I confirm.

“How did they get here?” Cole asks.

The man I loaned my sword to answers, “She saved us.”

After I confirm with a nod, Cole switches his attention to counting through the remaining squad around us. Darian, Melaina, Nolan, Gavin…he freezes. Terror in his eyes.

“Darian, where’s Archie?”

twenty-eight

FEIGN CONFIDENCE

Darian rolls his eyes, a cut above his brow bleeding into the crease of his eyelid and snaking down his cheekbone and jaw. “How should I know?”

“I asked you to look out for him?” Cole growls, his fists clenching.

“I might have been a little preoccupied trying to save Melaina’s ass,” Darian spits back and jerks his thumb at Melaina.

She glares back at him with a grumble. “I didn’t need your help.”

Cole shoves past Darian, hard enough for Darian to take a few steps back to balance himself.

“Where are you going?” I call out, following him as he strides away from the group.

“To get Archie. I’m not leaving him behind.”

I lunge after him, and he rips his arm from my grasp.

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