Page 137 of A Rising Hope

I knew Priya’s kill lists would never end. She would hunt and kill, do anything to bury the heavy weight of the broken rage within her.

But I hoped.

I truly hoped that one day that little sprout of caring in her heart would grow bigger. Because no matter where she would be, no matter where I would be, there would always be a bond between us. There would be her and there would be me. And neither one of us could deny that this bond, however broken and damaged it was at times, healed a part of us when we needed it most.

Her rage and my grief, forever tied together.

78

ZORA

Igrunted, yanking my crescent blades out of another gurgling throat. Destroyer blood trickled down the polished streets of Svitar. An occasional gentle brush of wind carried the last remnants of the dark fog at our feet. My muscles ached, lungs burned, but I kept my thoughts sharp, holding tight to the reins within.

Another swing of the sword, another tug of my chain. My body moved on pure instinct, instinct that I learned from the moment I gained consciousness. Step, duck, move, swing, jump, lunge.

I didn’t look, didn’t dare to look, but I knew the rest of the Ten were doing the same as we made our way towards the city walls, carving a path through the retreating enemy battalions.

Only an occasional flash of fire and sparks from swords and axes blinked in the periphery of my senses.

We fought. And we fought together. Each one of us silently delivered deadly blows, each one of us grieving the empty void where Gia would’ve been. Where her hungry fire would’ve scorched the lines of soldiers. Where her strength would’vebroken their shields in half. Where her smile would’ve brought courage and hope to those around her.

I ducked once more as a knife went past my head. Metal echoed against the cobbled street behind me. I flinched at the sting, fighting the urge to touch my ear to assess the damage as warm blood trickled down my neck.

A loud horn sounded through the city. Once, then twice, then thrice. Each sound added a spark to the flame of hope that flickered in my heart.

Svitar fell.

We had won.

I froze, my thoughts snagged on that realization.

Wewon.

“We need to retreat, Zora,” Ashe advised next to me, landing her short swords straight into the lungs of an attacking soldier. “They are retreating from the city walls and are going to flood the streets soon. We need to join the rest of our armies or we could be overrun.”

I wiped my chin covered in blood, nodding.

“Retreat. Now!” I shouted the command and landed the last few fatal wounds to a kneeled soldier, choking on my blades.

We won,my mind repeated, as if aware there was a part of me that didn’t feel triumphant. Couldn’t feel triumphant. Not when Gia and so many others wouldn’t be here to whistle and shout victoriously with me.

The Ten ran and so did I, bolting down the serpentine streets of the ancient city until we’d reach the victorious battalions of Gideon’s army. The shouts grew louder. Smoke coated my tongue as it slithered deep into my lungs.

We turned again and again, just a few blocks away from the rendezvous. My legs cramped, but I kept going. The first sight of the familiar dark banners flickering between the grand buildings eased my drumming heart.

“To the left, there is a shortcut!” Motra shouted, as the Ten sprinted ahead before being cut off by some enemy soldiers. The loud fight exploded only a block away. And I would have followed them had it not been for the unsettlingly familiar figure appearing in the small alley.

I froze in my steps. My eyes narrowed on the shadowed silhouette. Echoes of my past luring me like a siren to the right, and I followed.

“Zorianna.”

That voice, the familiar tone of disgust mixed with demand, cut me to my bones.

“Father.” I stood still, matching his hatred-filled look as he stepped forward.

He wore his general’s armor, but his helm was off. The stark white feather, cut in half, was soaked in blood.

My father had aged. The harsh features of his face deepened, the pointed eyes that mirrored mine, dull and worn.

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