onto the giant predator’s back when excruciating pain ran through him.
Draeven stumbled. He didn’t even have time to swipe or protect his back before both he and Risk fell against the large cat. He looked down and shuddered at the stump where his foot should have been, blood gushing from the wound.
A hiss that was far too loud to be Risk jolted him from his stupor.
Draeven turned his head to see Neiss, easily fifty feet long and still growing. Anger and fear rippled through his body before surprise washed over him. Neiss coiled, rearing back to strike. But not at him. He snapped forward, grasping the solider that had attacked Draeven, and swallowed him whole.
The basilisk wrapped around the giant cat’s body, forming a barrier with its own skin that neither sword nor magic could penetrate. He wasn’t sure when or how Quinn had been able to send the serpent after him, but for once, he was grateful to see him.
Neiss looked to him, briefly nodding his head before turning and keeping watch. Draeven returned the gesture, unable to process that he just thanked a snake.
“Draeven,” his name coming from Risk’s lips startled him. Everything was so vibrant and yet not. It was loud, yet he struggled to hear. He had a feeling she’d been saying his name for a while now.
“You need to go,” he said. “You’re not strong enough to fight them all off, and I can’t protect you.” His vision was beginning to blur. Sound was becoming more and more distorted.
“I do,” she agreed. “But you need to live.” Risk pulled away from him, and he didn’t know why until his own sword loomed in front of him.
“Wh-what are you doing?” he asked, struggling to stay awake.
“Trying to save you, now turn on the fire.”
“I don’t know how,” he groaned, turning into the slick fur of the cat.
So soft . . .
“I said turn on the fire.”
Power leaked from her command and Draeven, weak from the blood loss trying to claim him, was hopeless to resist. The last of his rage ignited once more. She extended the sword toward him.
“Take the sword and press the blade to the wound.”
Unable to deny her, even as he felt himself slipping away, Draeven took the sword. He pressed the hot edge to his wound. The pain barely touched him as his consciousness started to wane once more, and not even Risk could hold him.
Draeven closed his eyes, but not before he saw her face bathed in firelight.
He promised himself then that if he lived through this, he was going after her.
Even if her sister was a nightmare.
She was worth it, and so much more.
Chapter 52
Fearless
“In the end, we must conquer ourselves. We are our own worst enemies.”
— Quinn Darkova, fear twister, walker of realms
The wave of power that brought the world to its knees only lasted long enough for them to reach the end of the line. Quinn dropped from the firedrake’s claws at the same moment the soldiers stood. They formed a semi-circle around the emperor who was keeled over in the dirt.
“Nero,” Quinn said, by way of greeting. She didn’t have forever to do this, and every precious second was another one that someone she cared about could die. Permanently.
The man in the grass turned his head. The scar over his left eye looked grotesque. His skin appeared hard and leathery. The corner of his mouth curled up into a cruel grin. His good eye focused on Quinn.
“I was so certain it would be Lazarus and I in the end. I can’t say that I’m truly disappointed it’s you, however. He could never do what needed to be done when it was hard. But you—you understand. Don’t you, Quinn?”
She narrowed her eyes on him as the firedrake touched down behind her.
It emitted a roar and breathed fire on the soldiers that would dare stop her.
“You don’t know him,” Quinn said. “Not truly. Just as you don’t know me. You think you do. Everyone has lines that they won’t cross. Good. Bad. Evil. Everyone but you. You would truly do anything for power. Kill anyone. Me? I kill when people hurt me. I play games. Lazarus also kills for power, but he doesn’t kill those who are loyal. You have no regard for anyone or anything but yourself.”
Quinn trailed closer to him. Nero didn’t seem alarmed. He still thought Ramiel’s gift would protect him. That he was invincible. Untouchable.
“My lack of empathy makes me supreme. Emotions are messy, complicated