Page 97 of A City of Flames

I spur into action, rolling onto my back and swallowing a scream as I drag my gaze down to a branch, thick in size protruding from my lower abdomen.

Dear Solaris, help me.

Letting courage take over, I tear the branch free from my stomach, covering my mouth as I let out a guttural cry into my hand. Agony, pure agony shoots through my wound as I clutch it, and blood spools onto my fingers. Blowing a few quick breaths, I squeeze my eyes shut and lean on my side, but the pain almost makes me blackout.

Using my other hand, I dig through the dirt until I get to the sludge of it. I plaster the muck onto my arms, my face, and hair, then whimper as I let go of my wound to cover it as well.

There’s a low growl, and I turn to stone as the creature’s tail slithers among the leaves, searching and sniffing.

It nears me, and I start to pray as its head peers over my body.

Seconds go by, one.

Two.

Three.

I think it’s all over for me until a rumbling roar resonates throughout the clearing. I feel it in every inch of my body, powerful and vicious, but it’s not from the creature.

It’s a dragon.

The creature’s head shoots up, as does mine and the dragon stands at the opposite end on all fours. Large with silver scales adorning the sides of its body while the rest glistens in onyx.

It charges for the creature, and they clash, claws out, and shrills from the creature unleash within its throat as they go at it.

I attempt to get up.

Nothing.

My legs are giving out, my head spins, and I drop onto my back, staring up at the slightest bit of sky I can see. Light gleams above me as orange, and shades of the sun flare in the air like fire. I manage a smile saying to myself, “Ardenti.”

It’s then when the smile fades, and I let my hand fall to the side as my breathing comes at a gasp with every inhale I take.

Maybe I’m dying. Maybe this is what it is like... Numbness taking over you.

I don’t want to die here, not like this.

I start to think of my brothers—Idris, how he’d never forgive himself if something happened to me. Illias and how lost he’d be when I’ve always protected him then Iker, who went to me for any issue he had because he could trust me.

I would do anything to be with them again, to protect them, even travel through the Ocean of Storms if I had to.

A tear slides down the side of my face and into my ear. I no longer hear any fighting between the dragon and the creature. I’m fading in and out of consciousness, but when an excruciating groan just about slips past my lips, and I feel hands come underneath my back and legs, scooping me up against someone’s chest.

My arm latches around a neck while the other hangs lifelessly. “It wasn’t a dragon,” is the first thing I murmur, unable to see when everything looks out of focus—like a dream.

“I know.” It’s the voice of a man, deep and distant. I recognize it, yet I try to shake my head because that is not what I meant.

It wasn’t a dragon that killed my father. It was those creatures, I say in my head again, like a chant, and I want to voice that, but my eyes begging to close, shutter at last, and darkness swallows me before I can make out whose arms I am in.

* * *

My eyes flutter open as a path of sun gleams through the windows, warming me up. Head aching, I lift my hand to shield the light and frown at the unfamiliar wood-paneled ceiling. I decide to tilt my head to the side but widen my eyes when I come across two large obsidian ones blinking at me. “Hello, again, Miss Nara!”

Tibith.

I’m facing Tibith, which means—

“Darry t-told me your name wasn’t Miss Misty.” His ears flap in disappointment, and his fur glows at every hit of sunray. “I quite liked that name. It sounded magical—”

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