Clutching the column, she tried to catch her breath.
Gods, her love needed to focus on the fight with the bishop—not worry about her.
Fighting back tears, she pulled her skirts out of reach and kept going.
She reached the corner where the curving column met flat stone tower. Easing herself onto the next portion of ledge, she found herself looking into the hidden room she’d shared with Talos. With a soft cry, she pressed her palms to the glass and tried to draw strength from the memory.
A wail melded with a throaty roar.
She looked up to see Talos and the bishop tumbling through the air. For all her love seemed larger than the bishop, blood ran down his side. The wound gaped, revealing pale slices of bone through strips of torn fur. Gods have mercy, she couldn’t tell if her love was winning—or losing.
“Hold on, Belle,” he called. “I’m coming—argh!”
His words dissolved into a cry of pain as the bishop drove him downward. One of his wings snapped backward, and a long tear rent the thick leather. They disappeared into a wash of flame. Embers swirled up in their wake like fine rain in a spring breeze, singing her skirts.
“Talos! No!” One hand gripping the wall, she leaned as far over the ledge as she dared, searching the sea of flame in the square for a sign of her love. Where are you?Her heart lodged in her chest, beating so hard she feared it would burst through her ribs.
Oh, Gods. Please let him be alive.
“Belle!” Jaston bellowed.
Her attention snapped to the column. Windhaven’s traitorous captain was scrambling after her—tricky, in full armor, and yet his face was contorted with rage and she feared he was beyond reason. Feet slipping, armor scraping along the stone, he was still dragging himself to where she stood.
She backed away and searched the narrow space before the tower window.
The ledge here was even more narrow, barely wide enough for her bare feet to find purchase. At the far end of the ledge was a carved knight holding a stone spear. If she could break that off, it would do.
Back to the window, she slid along the ledge.
Beneath her bare toes, her town burnt. The heat of the fire blew her hair and skirts upward. She wanted to cry and rail and demand the Gods rise from the spreading dark and set everything to right—but she’d tried that when she’d lost Thomas and nothing had answered. This time, she’d fight. Then she’d search every inch of the rubble for her love.
Face tight, she took hold of the stone spire and yanked.
“There’s nowhere to go, Belle,” Jaston said, his metal-clad boots slipping on the narrow ledge as he stalked toward her. “No option other than me.”
“You’re wrong.” She used her whole body and the spire broke free. Gripping the length of stone with both hands, she slowly raised it, holding it before her like a blade. “There’s down.”
Eyes wild, he lunged at her. “You’remine.”
“Never.” She swung the spire at him.
The length of stone caught him right across his helm, ringing like a bell and knocking off that stupid red plume. With a cry, he dropped to his knees. But his body kept coming toward her, his armored legs sliding across the stone ledge even as he teetered on the edge.
She flattened her back against the far column in an effort to escape his reach.
Half-off the ledge, he managed to grab hold of her underskirts. “Your lover is dead, Belle,” he rasped. “Your town is gone. Pull me up and we’ll leave this place. Start a new life—”
“Never!” Even as her heart broke for Talos, she kicked at Jaston. “I will never help you.”
He bared his teeth at her. “Then we’ll both die, whore.”
Fist tight in her skirts, he pushed off the ledge. She dropped the spear, reaching for the column. Her fingers brushed the knight, but before she could find purchase, Jaston’s full weight hit her skirts.
It yanked her off the ledge and into space.
A strange sort of acceptance washed over her as she fell. If Talos had died in that burning square, perhaps it was right she joined him.I’m sorry, Emmi. I hope Tarn is able to find you—
“Got you.” A dark form appeared beneath her, massive wings spread wide.