Chapters (46)
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Thirty-nine
- Forty
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
A runner appeared in the distance. Both Tristam and Flick snapped to attention, but Flick shook his head. “It’s not her. Too heavy on his feet.”
It was one of Tristam’s soldiers, running as fast as he could. Tristam climbed down the ladder to meet him, with Flick just behind.
The man was breathing heavily. “The Demon Riders took her.”
“What? How—”
Next to Tristam, Flick started to swear.
“One of our scouts saw Demon Riders carry her away. She was alive, but there was a lot of blood.”
Dread filled his chest at those last words. “Where did you see her?”
The messenger pointed, and Tristam sprinted off in that direction. He heard Flick’s footsteps pounding behind him and sped up even faster, as if he could outrun the voice of guilt. He thought he’d been prepared for anything—but Demon Riders?
A cluster of shieldmen was waiting for him farther down. Martin was amongst them, pacing back and forth as a crowd of distraught beagles swarmed around him.
“We saw them leaving,” Martin said, shaking his head helplessly. “They lost us in the alleys. The dogs just refused to follow.”
There was a scatter of gravel behind him as Flick caught up. “What’s going on?”
Tristam started to answer, but couldn’t. In his mind, he saw Jack torn open from shoulder to hip and refused to imagine Kyra in his place. He tore his gaze from Flick and addressed Martin instead.
“They most likely headed toward the forest,” he said, paying no heed to Flick’s expletives. They couldn’t lose her. “Search the entire area. We don’t rest tonight until she’s back safe.”
Twenty-nine
T W E N T Y - N I N E
They carried her through the streets, heading quickly toward the outskirts. She made a few halfhearted attempts to struggle, but each effort sent such pain through her body that she had to stop. After a while, Kyra just lay limply, resigned to her fate. She should have been more afraid, but Kyra found she no longer cared. She was dying. She could feel it, and it didn’t matter at this point how it would finally happen. She just hoped it wouldn’t hurt any worse.
The man who carried her was tall, with long black hair, sharp cheekbones, and a strong nose. He wore the leather tunic she had seen on the other Demon Riders. Besides the occasional flash of leather and dark blond hair, she couldn’t get a good look at the woman beside him.
The sound of rustling leaves grew louder until it surrounded her on all sides. Branches passed perilously close to her face. They didn’t go very far into the forest before the woman asked a question in that strange language. The man stopped and laid Kyra carefully on the dirt.