Page 331 of Scarlet Wars
Sean let out a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh, tears spilling down his cheeks in silent relief. His hands trembled as he pressed them to Jackson’s chest, as if needing tofeelit, just to be sure.
“Keep him down,” I hissed, snapping back to focus. “Don’t let the Chief get even a glimpse of what I did. Grab him, andget him out of here, Sean.”
Our eyes locked, only for a second. Then Sean gave a sharp nod, jaw clenched.
He slipped his arms beneath Jackson—still unconscious but breathing—and lifted him with a strength I didn’t know he had. A flicker of light sparked around them as he summoned a green portal, the air warping with strain.
“I’ve got you,” my brother murmured softly to his husband, and then they were gone, vanished into the shimmer of translation.
I looked up, barely able to exhale.
Cara had collapsed to her knees, smoke curling from the sleeves of her coat, her shoulders heaving. But she was alive.
She met my gaze, her eyes filled with something soft, wrecked, and true.
Then she slumped sideways, unconscious, right as James appeared, his face bloodied. He caught her before she hit the ground, then scooped her up in his arms without a word.
And then he was gone too—back into the smoke and fire—carrying the girl who’d saved my family out of the line of fire.
SEVENTY-ONE
EMMA
I rose slowly to my feet, my gaze locked on the High Chief.
My blood buzzed.
My every nerve was lit and humming.
And beneath it all, a single thought pulsed like a drumbeat:This ends today.
I stood a few feet from the High Chief, with only Petru, Caden and Rachel flanking me. We were out of breath, but not out of fight. Tired but determined.
The ground seemed to pulse with every beat of my heart, but I held my stance.
The High Chief tilted his head slightly, studying me as if he still couldn’t quite figure me out, while I burned with the kind of power he had spent cycles trying to acquire.
When he finally spoke, the words were laced with venom, broadcast loud enough for every fighter, every Offensive or Radical, every dying soldier on this battlefield to hear.
“Miss Thompson,” he said, the formal title sliding off his tongue like a blade.
"Even if we cannot killyou—to preserve a future where magi survive—you now understand…" He jerked his chin toward thespot where Sean and Jackson had stood just moments ago, "…you can still be broken."
He stepped forward, robes whispering through the blood-smeared dust, his gaze fixed on mine with unnerving calm.
“Not killing you feels like unfinished business. But fortunately, as I’ve said before, you have no shortage of people you love.”
He tilted his head, eyes gleaming.
"The loss of your Specialist. Crown’s First Offensive. Now your friend, the Orator. And of course...your parents. Though I can’t take credit for those."
I gritted my teeth, rage and grief tangling in my chest like fire and glass. And underneath it, a sliver of relief he had missed how I’d healed my friend.
“I suggest,” he said, his voice dropping low and razor-sharp, “you tread carefully.”
His gaze slid from me to Caden.
“Or the man you’re willing to sacrifice the entire Magi World for, dies today as well.”
