Page 108 of Stolen
To a place. To a people. To a role I didn’t ask for but might have been born to fill.
Is that dumb? Naive? Hopeful?
Maybe.
But here’s what I do know.
I won’t be able to look myself in the eye if I don’t stand beside him now.
If I don’t fight for this place the way it’s already fought for me.
If I don’t give it everything I have—even if all I have is grit and a half-decent right hook.
I’m not just Jules from Jersey anymore.
I’m viyella to a motherfucking Dragon. To the Lord of Air himself.
He is myviyen. He is my heartbeat. He is Alaric of Nightfall.
And I am his, wholly and completely.
So no, I’m not going anywhere.
I’m not running away and ducking for cover.
The fight is not over.
My place is beside Alaric. So, I stand right there, shoulder brushing his, breath still ragged from the chaos of battle.
Around us, smoke rises in twisting gray plumes.
The marble of the Eyrie’s courtyard is scorched, smeared with ash and blood.
But we are not alone.
Alaric’s brothers—Kael with his soaked tunic clinging to him, Dagan with his runes still glowing, Thorne burning with quiet fury—form a solid wall beside the Eyrie’s remaining guards.
Together, we drive the last of the SoulTaker-corrupted soldiers into the open square at the heart of the Eyrie.
Our forces surround them.
Alaric’s brethren, the castle guard, even a few brave villagers still clutching farm tools and makeshift weapons.
United, bloodied, but unbowed.
The captured attackers stumble into a huddled group beneath the broken arches and scorched flags.
“Their eyes are vacant, unseeing,” Kael murmurs.
He’s right. They look like glassy like marbles reflecting a storm. Some snarl and spit like feral beasts, caught in a waking nightmare.
Others just weep. Silent tears streak down soot-smeared cheeks as they tremble, muttering words no one can understand.
“None of them seem aware of what they’ve done,” Thorne agrees.
And I nod because he’s right.
They don’t seem to understand the havoc they’ve unleashed on this sacred place. Or the cries of the wounded, the blood that darkens the flagstones beneath our feet.
