Page 123 of Savage Crown

The wound is worse than I thought.

I sway.

His grip tightens.

His expression shifts, and for a split second, something cracks beneath all that rage. He scoops me into his arms before I can protest.

I try to fight, try to insist that I can still walk, but my body betrays me. Too much blood. Too much pain.

Rylan mutters a curse under his breath, his hold tightening as he moves. “I should kill you for getting yourself cut,” he snarls.

I manage a weak smirk. "Wouldn't be much fun... if I didn't make you work for it."

His jaw clenches. "You’re not dying."

He says it like a command.

Like he can will it into existence.

Like he can defy fate itself.

43

RYLAN

Seraphina’s blood is everywhere. It coats my arms, my hands, soaks into my skin like it belongs there. Like it’s a stain I’ll never be rid of. Her body is too still in my arms, her breathing too shallow.

And I can’t lose her.

The night roars around us. Flames devour the remains of Nhilian’s castle, sending black smoke twisting into the sky like a dying god’s final breath. I hear the distant screams of those trapped inside, the clash of swords, the smell of burning flesh.

I don’t stop. None of it means a damn thing if I don’t get her out of here.

I cut through the remaining guards like a knife through silk. A dark elf lunges from the left, sword glinting in the firelight. I twist, pivoting just enough to avoid the strike, and slam my dagger into his throat. His breath gurgles, blood spilling over his lips as he drops.

I don’t watch him die.

There’s no time.

Another comes.

I parry.

A brutal slice to the gut.

A scream.

A body crumpling to the earth.

The real threat is a flash of silver.

A crossbow.

Pointed directly at me.

I can’t dodge in time.

But I don’t have to.

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