Page 108 of Commanding Flame and Shield
“Okay, so let’s break this down…” Aren, while mercifully serious and not making light of the dream, or the fact that I now had to replace every item in Marcus’ guest room after my storm, remained undaunted. That battlefield calm settling over him as he assessed the visions Alvara cast before us. The different ways this could come about. The different decisions that might or might not change it. But there was one certainty that remained solid in every thread. War was coming.
And it was comingforme.
FORTY-THREE
RACE
ALVARA
August’s training had paid off, and I now had to push my own legs to keep ahead of him. His longer stride gobbling up the earth in powerful pulses of muscle and determination. As though we could outrun the visions, the fate we saw coming.
We had spent hours huddled together in Marcus’ living room, the modern furnishings suddenly cold and unwelcoming. No matter which thread I spun down, no matter how many decisions we took turns making, each path led to that battlefield. Beyond that…
It was a mess. A giant, cosmic knot I could not for the life of me untangle. It was that battle that would determine my ending. This Adrastos knew my capabilities—was leaving all their options open so I couldn’t stop him from coming.Motherfucker.
I would plead, with Aren, with Alec, any of them, to make me a martyr before they allowed those monsters to take me and use me against him. To protect the greater good, to protect me from an end so much worse than the sword or bullet of a friend. A knowing settled in my gut. Looking up, I caught those stony silver eyes, shadowed and full of understanding. He crossed his arms, muscles all taut. Ansel cocked his head to the side, pleading eyes watering as his brow crumpled with grief, gaze dropping to his feet. His chest expanded deeply, and he ran his tongue over a canine before lancing me with that quicksilver intensity again. Two soft nods. That was all I got before he turned his attention to the cigarette he’d been turning over between his fingers, and slipped it between his lips. It was enough. For me, he would make the hard choice.
Every scrap of air leaked from my lungs, relief washing through me.
August could not fall. Could not yield. His survival was the survival of humanity, of the world as we knew it. Every thread where he survived showed me the same thing—the same final stand for souls and humans alike. I couldn’t see past my death, but assumed it would only stoke his resolve to destroy them. My suffering...he could not endure my suffering, as our bond became suffocating. He would yield.
Perhaps August had sensed my resolve forming, as a chill had enveloped that windowed room, so many floors above us now. Perhaps he also needed to feel some semblance of power, a way to escape the tension bottling inside each of us. Perhaps that’s what drove him to request we run. We weren’t the only ones that needed to escape from it, and our little pack now barreled down the sidewalks together. The city noise had long since faded from my focus, only the soft and steadythud, thud, thudof our feet against the pavement keeping me in real time.
The mortal realm was comfortably nestling into their blankets and sweaters, gathering around their fireplaces and ovens that smelled of pastry and nutmeg. Thoughts of the holidays—both forlorn and overjoyed—barraged our minds like the steady plunk of raindrops on water.
It was only the two immense shields between us that seemed to keep the distant voices from escalating to a bellowing roar.
The winter air was shredding apart my lungs, but I forced my muscles to keep moving. To keep running. Heart thundering against its cage, the demand went down the chain of command, requiring my body to comply. Perhaps there was a small piece of me that hoped I could outrun this fate, too.
Are we to freeze off our fingers, then? We won’t likely win if we’re crippled.Lana’s mental voice grated on my nerves, but Ansel and Marcus both snorted. Indeed, my hands in their gloves had long since released the ache of cold for a terrifying numbness. I felt, rather than saw, Aren shoot her an amused glare. My shields locked up, and Lana huffed at being shut out entirely. She didn’t make to leave, to jump back to the loft or cease her running—wouldn’t, I realized, with me facing down potential torture and slaughter. Indeed, her and Ansel would likely grant me no semblance of privacy until we found a way around the battle.
Thud, thud, thud.
Our feet continued their steady assault on the pavement, quieter than any human could possibly be. Counting my breath seemed like a good place to put my focus until the cortisol in my body could return to normal.
But there, in the shield's corner, a white light seemed to press against it. August. I cracked a sliver open just for him.
Training has...become a release for me. Keeps my head clear.
I’ve always been the same. Keeps me sane—a bit of an addiction.
We all have our vices.I felt his attention searing my skin, and a genuine smile played on my lips as I flicked my gaze to him. August was, not surprisingly, watching me as we ran, his eyes scraping up and down my body like a physical caress. Heat flushed me, cheeks burning.
We exchanged small, timid smiles, as though he also didn’t want to allow himself to feel what this unavoidable future would do to us.
You know...if you don’t start training with Aren again, I’m about to lap you...Sire.
I shook my head, eyes narrowing slightly, as I glared at him.In your dreams, Rookie.
Amusement danced down that line to me, and my smile warmed over the heat of my own ragged breaths.
Big talk for someone dodging training these days. Too good for it, I suppose, in your old age.
I rolled my eyes.You and Alec embarrass the twins plenty on your own.
He shrugged.But how much more satisfying for them to get schooled by a girl?
They learned the hard way that my gender doesn’t dictate the size of my brass. Trust me, we’ve fought our share.
