Page 45 of The Book of Legends
“Kainen!” Malachi shouts again.
“Let him do it,” I yell over the wind.
Kainen’s eyes snap to mine. He doesn’t have a choice. I’m nothing to him.
His sword swings, cutting through another beast. Then he flings out a hand, summoning a powerful force. A massive wolf is lifted off the ground, thrown into a tree with bone-crushing force.
His voice is raw, wild. “No! She lives.”
The world tilts. Before I can react, I’m airborne. Kainen’s iron grip is locked around my waist.
“Hold on,” he commands.
I barely manage to wrap my arms around his shoulders before Malachi’s wings send us hurtling into the sky. Below, the earth erupts in flame. Fire consumes the battlefield, swallowing everything in its path.
I can’t cry. I can’t even breathe. All I can do is hold on. But beneath the terror, something unexpected flutters in my chest.
Shock.
Not because I survived.
Not because I escaped.
But because Kainen refused to let me die.
For the first time since my aunt’s death—since I lost everything—someone cares whether I live or die. And that terrifies me more than the monsters below.
My eyes flutter open, warmth cocooning me like a heavy blanket. It takes me a second to realize that the warmth comes from strong arms wrapped around me. The scent of wood, pine, and ash mixed with something undeniably masculine tells me exactly who it is.
Kainen.
My breath catches as I feel his thighs shift beneath me. My eyes widen. I try to move, but his arms tighten around me.
“Shh… it’s alright. I’ve got you,” he murmurs.
The glow from the hearth flickers against his face, casting shadows over his storm-gray eyes—the same color as his armor. For a moment, I think I’m dreaming. But then it all rushes back.
The beasts in the night.
The snarls. The claws.
The stench of fire and death.
I swallow hard. “What happened?”
His lips twitch, almost amused. “I think you know. But if you’re asking how you got here—well, you fell asleep. Not the smartest move during dragon flight, but I managed.”
Guilt claws at my chest. I could have fallen to my death, and nothing he did would have mattered. He must think I’m a fool.
Then I notice the faint grimace that flickers across his face, the tension in his jaw.
He’s hurt.
It was him against a pack of wolves.
“Are you alright?” I ask, scanning him for wounds.
“I’m fine. Just…” He swallows. “…weak.”
