Page 181 of The Blade in the Ashes
“I don’t understand,” she whispered, more to herself than to me.
Her scent was stronger than it had been in ages, the floral aroma almost overpowering. So overpowering in fact that I didn’t even have to question if the Forging had worked. I could almost smell the unrestrained magic rolling over us.
I took her hand in mine.
“Let’s go,” I suggested. “We’ll get you more clothes back at the compound.”
Thea glanced down at her bare legs, as if she hadn’t even realized the lack of garments at all, and gave a dismissive shake of her head, pulling her hand from mine with urgency.
“Clay!”
My brows lowered into a frown as I stepped towards her, holding the back of her neck. “What’s wrong?”
Wide blue eyes stared into mine with undeniable terror. Her fingers grasped my wrist so tightly that it was distracting.
“They’re under attack.” Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and I felt her pulse pounding insistently under my fingertips. “They’re going to die if we don’t help them.”
My gut dropped. I no longer needed explanations for the ways of the Gods. There were some things I would never understand—like how Thea could know that with such certainty—but I just had to trust in them.
And above all, I trusted her.
“Let’s go.”
Ayanna darted up from her bowed position, grasping Thea’s forearm. “Your Holiness!”
A snarl tore out of me as I pulled Thea behind me in an instant, shielding her with my body as Ayanna held up both of her hands in surrender. No fear flashed across her eyes, but she bowed her head in submission.
“What is it?” Thea demanded, her voice sounding clearer and more grounded every time she spoke.
“Where is your weapon?”
Time stilled. Thea stumbled backwards, looking around us wildly, as my jaw clenched.
No weapon. How was that possible?
Thea spun in a circle, eyes mapping over the cramped, cavernous space.
“No, no, no.” She lifted her hands to her head. “Where is it? I did the Forging! I saw the blade!”
My breath was coming in quick, desperate pants. The dragon inside me stirred to life, this time not in anger, but in response to the rush of anxiety that now poured through my veins.
We’d started the ritual, and she’d completed the Forging correctly, but we’d been wrong about one very important detail.
I reached out, running my hands over her shoulder. “This isn’t the seat of your power.”
Her eyes met mine, that same dawn of realization against her features. Her lips pressed tightly together.
“If we don’t help the rebels, they will die.” There wasn’t a hint of doubt in her words.
“We can’t allow anyone else to get their hands on that weapon, though,” I finished her thought, hating what needed to happen next.
History had a sick way of repeating itself, it seemed.
Her head tilted to the side, and she reached for me, taking my face in her hands and forcing her lips against mine.
It was a burning kiss, a push and pull that said more than we ever could with our words. I gripped her tunic in my hands, holding her tightly against me.
“Hyrax will be with his forces,” she reasoned. “I can get the sword and be back in an instant.”
