Ronan snarled, ignored his screaming muscles as he wrenched and pulled against the spears, blood pooling at his feet. With every movement, burning fire licked through him, his vision going blurry from pain. He let out a ragged grasp. He’d never come across anything like this before,nothingcould penetrate his hide.
Except fire.
Had they somehow worked out how to imbue the very spears themselves with fire? Ronan bellowed, struggling even harder against his restraints, rolling and snapping his jaws, trying to find purchase.
It was no use.
Kaelen, similarly trapped, was beating his wings, coating himself in fire, trying in vain to melt the iron.
Selena was screaming. There was so muchscreaming.
“Are they secure?”
“Yes! The enchantments are holding.”
“Good, don’t let either one of them slip free, slit their throats if you have to!”
“Where are the other two?”
“Keep your eye out for them!”
“They weren’t supposed to find us!”
“It doesn’t matter, the precautions worked!”
“How is the birth?”
“She’s nearly there, we’re moments away!”
“After all this time…our lord, our god!”
“Truthfully, I don’t really see what all the fuss is about.”
Ronan glanced up in shock at the Order member who had spoken. He was standing, his arms crossed, his red robe concealing his face.
“I mean really, could we not find a god to worship that doesn’t stink so heavily of sulfur and brimstone?”
“How dare you!”
“You blasphemous…”
“...will be punished for…”
“Yes, yes, yes,” the male lifted his hands, “I’m a very naughty boy.” He shook them, and twin daggers appeared in his grasp.
The robe fell to the floor.
“Question is, what are you going to do about it?”
“It’s Lord Elian!”
“Quick, get the—”
“—how did he—”
“—don’t let him near her!”
Their momentary shock cost them, as in a blurred shadow of movement and death Elian struck, three falling dead at his feet. He flicked a dagger, blood splattering from it across the stone, an easy smirk on his face.