Page 291 of Scarlet Wars
“There.” Caden lifted his chin toward the far end of the field, where shadows clashed and fell. “He’s over there.”
I squinted, but it was too far to see anything beyond shapes and flashes of haze.
Emma grabbed him by the front of his shirt, her face set, eyes blazing. “You fucking come back to me.”
His hands framed her face, rough palms cradling her like she was the only anchor in this hell. He kissed her once, deep and fast, like he was burning the taste of her into his lungs.
“I will,” he swore. His eyes locked to hers, dark and unyielding. “I love you.”
Her lips trembled, but she didn’t falter. “I love you more.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “I know.”
“Ass,” she whispered, and crushed her mouth to his one more time before shoving him away.
And then he was gone, disappearing into the chaos.
I watched through Maurice’s eyes as Emma drew a Chela in one hand, shot out her Skindo in the other, and plunged headfirst into the bloodbath, hacking her way through enemies like a woman possessed.
Mud splashed under her boots, the metallic stench of blood so thick it clung to the air, choking and rancid. Sparks of her scarlet haze erupted with each strike, flaring like miniature explosions, cutting through bodies, splitting armor, burning through whatever dared cross her path.
She was all fury and desperation, a red streak carving a path through chaos, moving with single-minded purpose.
For a while, that’s all I could see: her, fighting like a storm made flesh. Maurice had only ever watched Emma.
And I couldn’t blame him, because gods, what a sight.
She was a fucking force of nature. Each swing of her blade was vicious, decisive, her haze blazing in arcs that lit theslaughter around her. Bodies fell in her wake, the ground slick with blood and rain.
Maurice turned to watch Stephen and the High Chief for a second when, out of nowhere, Emma’s voice ripped across the battlefield—jagged, rupturing, something that sounded like it was tearing her apart from the inside out.
My head jerked up, and there I was.
Future me.
Down in the mud, half-submerged, blood blooming dark and fast across my chest. I was trying to push myself up…and failing. Above me, a cloaked figure loomed, my own Chela raised high inhishands, its inked edge blazing with deadly light.
“No…” Emma’s voice fractured as she ran, boots slipping in the muck, clawing her way closer. “No, no, no?—”
The Chela came down.
Straight through my chest.
The sound—fuck, that sound… Wet. Final. It hit me like a blade of its own, the kind that brands itself into your bones and never leaves.
Emma’s scream split the air, shattering what was left of the world. She collapsed before she reached me, knees slamming into the ground, her body folding under the weight of it. Her hands tore into the earth as she dragged herself forward, nails breaking, blood mixing with dirt…
But she was too far.
And too late.
Her pain didn’t stop when the light of the Chela dimmed. It echoed across the battlefield, through my chest, rattling inside me like it belonged to both versions of her, future and present.
She dragged herself closer, every inch driven by something feral and broken…
And then she stopped.
Not willingly.
