The Raven and the Dove (The Raven and the Dove #1) - Kaitlyn Davis Page 0,104

buildings around the perimeter.

Then he saw.

All the buildings close to the river were set on low columns, no more than four feet tall, to escape the flooding that happened each spring. And one of those columns was now splintered down the center, a spidery fissure that crept up into the building above. The crack spread, foot by foot, higher and wider, like a snap of lightning cutting through stone.

The world continued to shake.

The stones began to teeter.

The surface wobbled.

A flash of white caught Rafe’s eye. Two ivory wings spread, but didn’t move, didn’t launch into the air like many ravens had done in the confusion.

She was still, shocked.

With her head angled up, she stared in horror at the avalanche of rock ready to crush her.

44

Lyana

Lyana couldn’t move as the building behind her started to crumble. All she could do was stare as the rocks spilled loose, slowly at first, one dropping and rattling across the street, then another and another, until all at once the entire fa?ade toppled, dropping almost in slow motion as the wall of solid stone made for her head, falling, falling, falling—

Something slammed into her from the side.

Lyana rolled painfully across cobblestone. Arms wrapped around her, holding her to a hard chest and closing her wings. The world disappeared as onyx feathers arched overhead.

“I’ve got you.”

The words were rough, raspy, and gone in a flash.

They reminded her of a dark cave back home.

They made her feel safe.

Two seconds later, they were replaced by a groan as the stones fell. The crunch of bones and the snap of feathers filled her ears. Lyana closed her eyes as though she could make the sounds fade, but they didn’t. The fact that it wasn’t her pain that she heard made it worse. Rafe was crushed, but still, he kept his elbows bent so he held the weight of the debris away from her body, keeping her safe against the ground beneath them. He trembled with the exertion. Another scream tore up his throat.

It was her turn to whisper. “Hold on. Hold on.”

Lyana managed to twist her palms and press them to his chest. The dark shadows receded as the area around her hands shone gold and she pushed her magic beneath his skin, trying to give him strength.

“Hold on.”

He had no breath for words, but it didn’t matter. His magic rose to meet hers, sizzling beneath his skin, so familiar, so forbidden, so frantic, a long-lost lover coming home. Their gazes met fiercely across the subtle shine of power, a moment that extended into infinity.

Then his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he collapsed. The weight of a hundred men landed on her as his muscles gave out. Her chest burned beneath the pressure. Spots filled her vision. The last thing she saw was her magic extinguish before the world faded completely.

45

Xander

An ear-piercing silence filled the square as he and the others watched the dust settle—the sort of quiet that made hairs stand on end, that made the heart stop, that made the world slow as though even the open sky were too small to contain the mounting terror.

Reality came back bit by bit.

The ground fell still. Droplets sprinkled across the stones, the pitter-patter repetitive and loud as water continued to splash in the shattered fountain. Sunlight pushed through the ashy cloud, dissipating it. A single stone broke loose and tumbled down the chaotic mound and across the floor, coming to a stop a few seconds later.

Then the first scream sounded.

It took Xander a second to realize it had come from his own throat.

“Lyana!” The word burned, as though claws had cut their way up his neck. Lightning ran down his spine, a jolt so scorching he had no choice but to jump into action. “Lyana!”

Xander flew across the square. Others followed, screaming their own sets of names. Where only minutes before there had been so much light and life, now there was a pile of rubble ten feet high and no telling how many bodies were buried underneath, caught in the crashing tide before they’d had a chance to fly away. He knelt, grabbing a stone in his left hand, his right arm shaking in fury as he tried with no success to pull it rock away. His grip was tight, his muscles strained, but he couldn’t get a good hold with only five fingers instead of ten. Another set of hands quickly came into view, helping him shift the stone. Xander looked up, about