Page 61 of Nightingale

She wasn’t going to be eaten by spiders.

That was not how her story ended.

At least, that’s how she refused for it to end.

If she was going to die, then it would be at the hands of her brothers or by a Moordian’s.

Castil’s, if she had to guess.

But if he tried to slay her, then she’d sure as hell take him with her. If they were going to burn in eternal damnation, then he was going to burn alongside her.

“Come on.” Vrea gritted her teeth as the male groaned, his knees buckling. “We’re almost there.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” He remorsefully whispered, sweat sliding down his taut forehead. “I’m trying.”

“I know you are.”

It wasn’t a lie as she took a quick scan of his form, the way that his legs quivered as he attempted to stand on his own. On the way his arms shook with the determination of a man who wanted to do this on his own, of someone who didn’t like to lean on others for assistance. As someone who had been raised to never need anyone but himself.

“I’ve got you.” She replied and his pain-stricken eyes darted towards her. His irises were thin, far thinner than they should have been as she said, “I won’t let you go.”

His arm tensed around her shoulder as he pulled his gaze away towards the floor as if guilt and something else racked through him. The statements meant more than what she intended them to, and they both knew it. Her blood was warm, her head spun with the confession, her skin alight with strain from the way thatshe heaved them both towards the end of the valleyway.

Everything hurt, everything was a pain that she didn’t want to endure as she struggled to carry them both.

He saw it all, as he always did.

Saw the effort that she was putting into it, in the nervous darts of her eyes behind them as she gauged how much time they had before the spiders caught up to them. They weren’t far off, maybe six feet or so.

Rian inhaled sharply, bared his teeth like a fierce wolf and forced himself upwards. The weight immediately lifted from her lean shoulders as they ran together.

The sudden lightness nearly caused her to trip.

But she ignored it, focusing on the length ahead of them as he did.

He panted and barked out in agony, a weakened system working against him in the way that his back was coated in sweat, his chest covered in blood from the spiders and himself. He hissed every now and then, grabbing at his shoulder as if it could staunch the poison that slowly spread through him for just a second more.

They made it another foot, then two, then three.

The war tents were fastly approaching, a crowd gathered to see the oncoming beasts that hurdled for the canyon exit. Rian was doing it, he was running as fast as she was.

And then he fell.

His knees gave out and he shouted a warning as he went down.

Rian did not get up, and he did not move.

Vrea gargled a scream, something that her brain couldn’t process as she faltered to a stop, dropping to her knees beside him and shaking him violently as she yelled for him to get up, to move, to do anything but lay there looking like a corpse to be as the Blacklegs neared.

He did nothing.

She held her knives up, dashing in front of him as the Blacklegs slowed, circling them with a war-cry that haunted her. They rattled their legs, tapped the tips against the ground and snapped their pinchers down at her. She lunged, forcing one back as it tried to make for them.

“Back off!” She screamed at them. “He’smine!”

She was bound to him, whether she liked it or not.

Vrea fended them off, her hair as wild as the booming thunder crash of fear and the flashing lightning of finality that washed over her.

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