Page 41 of Scorched By Fate

A scream split the still air, and I jerked upright, looking for its source.

SIXTEEN

SELENE

Vyne's growl vibrated through the stone beneath me just as a scream ripped through the air like shattering glass.

My mind scrambled to catch up as I jerked awake, muddled by the haze of sleep, but that scream—the shrill, fractured sound of it—dug hooks into my ribs and wrenched me into full awareness.

Burnt air clawed my throat, a rush of sulfur and steam making my lungs sting with each breath. Vyne was already moving, a shadow of coiled muscle and tension at my side.

I sat up too fast, nearly tangling myself in his wings as they flared wide. They blotted out what little morning light there was, stretching like shields over me while his claws flexed against the ground, nearly carving into the stone with the force of his restrained fury.

Another scream echoed, high and desperate. My stomach twisted.

That voice was human.

“Stay,” Vyne growled, not looking at me. Just one word, clipped and commanding.

“Wait—” My arm shot out, but too late. He moved faster than I could keep up, his entire frame lifting into the air with a single beat of his wings. Wind whipped over me as his shadow disappeared into the sulfur mist hanging above.

My pulse thundered in my ears.

Stay? Seriously?

Not in this fucking lifetime.

The scream echoed again, and instincts I couldn’t argue with shoved me upright.

The grip of fear clawed its way up my spine, but it was overrun by something heavier, louder.Move.My body, my muscles, every ounce of my awareness latched onto that need.

The ridges leading upward were unforgiving. Shards of volcanic rock scraped at my palms as I climbed, the grit slipping underneath my boots and threatening to spill me onto the unstable terrain below.

By the time I crested the ridge, I could barely think through the heat and the choking pressure in my chest. But my focus narrowed fast when I spotted the source of the chaos.

First, the woman. Ragged and trembling, trying to hold her ground even as her feet scraped against loose rubble edging toward a fissure. Her clothes were tattered, her bare arms streaked with grime, hair clinging to her sweat-soaked skin in uneven clumps.

She was human. There wasn’t any mistaking that.

Then her pursuer. He was Drakarn. His scales shimmered red, shot through with golden undertones. I didn't recognize him or the armor he was wearing. Was he one of the Drakarn from Ignarath that Vyne had mentioned?

He moved with almost lazy slowness, stalking toward her like the whole mountain belonged to him. And her? She was nothing to him but something breakable.

My heart, already pounding hard, lurched.

Far above them, the clash of wings and roaring snarls shattered the silence. Vyne. Locked midair with someone equally massive. Their bodies tangled into an overwhelming storm of claws and fangs that blurred beyond my ability to follow.

But it was the woman’s scream—the sharp, splintered crack of it—that dragged all my attention back. Her legs wavered beneath her, inching across the ridge. And that red-scaled bastard? He took another step forward, his pupils fixed on her with something too cruel and calculated to ignore.

I moved before I could think.

The knife Vyne had given me felt too small, too light in my hand as I gripped it tight enough to turn my knuckles white. What I wouldn't give for a gun right now.

Fear buzzed under my skin, clashing against the instinctive pull roaring through me todo something.My pulse hammered loud in my ears, drowning out everything but the scrape of my boots over the rock.

I descended the ridge, staying low, moving fast against the unstable ground. Shifting grit slipped underfoot, rock scraping against my palms and knees every time I braced myself against a drop too steep for balance.

Ahead of me, the red Drakarn shifted his weight forward, wings twitching just enough to draw attention to the brutal size of his frame. He stalked toward the human. It wasn’t a questionifhe was going to act, onlywhen.

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