Page 98 of Of Withering Dreams
A searing blaze of pain burned through my side, jerking me forward.
“No!” Kaden roared, catching me as I stumbled. The hilt of a dagger stuck in my flank beneath my leather vest, blood seeping.
I’d been wrong. Not everyone had been destroyed. Sebille propped against the wall. Bracing herself on the stone with one hand, her other outstretched arm dropped to her side. Streaks of blood and grit coated her face as she sneered.
Kaden’s hand snapped out, calling upon another root and slashing it over our heads.
Sebille screamed as the jagged wood found its mark in the dead center of her chest.
Her attention whipped to me, her mouth hanging open in disbelief.
Within one blink, she shattered into cinder.
Kaden gently set me down. “This is going to hurt,” he murmured before withdrawing the blade swiftly. It clattered to the stones, and I cried out, biting my bottom lip and trapping the agony behind my teeth. He hovered his glowing palms above me, a wash of green draping over my injury.
The dome above flickered and popped, its liquid vestiges sprinkling over us as if the Ancients wept above.
“Kaden. I’m … I’m so sorry. For everything.” The words were faint—fading away into the darkness lurking at the side of my vision.
“Stop. You’re going to be okay.” The gruff words rumbled from his chest, a boiling well of emotions were finally frothing over. His shining eyes widened, disbelief and desperation sweeping over them, a severe line of concentration creasing between his brows. “The Murk hasn’t taken you yet—it can’t have you.”
I whimpered, aches pricking through my cold limbs.
“We have a victor!” Melina’s voice fluttered over me like a distant echo. The crowd cheered. Kaden growled as he urged the last of his power into my wound, his torso slumping over me as his body drained.
“Come on, don’t you give up on me. Fight, Ser!”
Warmth spread through me, the bite of ice stinging my fingertips as fire scorched through them. Midnight cloaked my eyes, and my eyelids fluttered shut. My mind slipped into the void, the distant sounds of crunching pebbles lulling me into oblivion.
“Well done, brother. Stay here …” My limp body lifted into solid, unflinching arms. Indistinct words were snarled as if I were underwater, my senses ebbing before blinking back on as Gavrel barked, “Enough.” His chest rumbled against my cheek. “Play your part so I can get her out. I’ve got her.”
It was the last thing I heard before my mind drifted away, following all the others—like dust swept into the Winnowing currents.
Not remaining.
Not worthy.
34
MIDST FALLING
Everything was black.
Every bit of me ached. Muscles. Bones. Guts.
My side twinged with each breath.
Breath?
Wasn’t I dead?
Bloody void. I’m in the Stygian Murk, aren’t I?
I scrunched my brow, hoping my lashes would knot together so I’d never have to open my eyes again.
Drip.
Drip.
