Her ax struck the shaft of the spear, yet it made not a dent, for beneath the black leather wrapping was a layer of steel instead of wood. It should have made the weapon unbearably heavy, but the strength of paragons made a mockery of such normal limitations. She pushed harder into him nonetheless, keeping their weapons locked. There would be no defeating the paragon who clearly outmatched her, but that was not her primary concern. Stasia now directly faced Soma, with Clarissa’s path toward freedom unblocked. There may be no escape for Stasia, but at least Clarissa might live.

“Run!” she screamed.

Clarissa hesitated but a half second before breaking into a sprint. Soma pressed his spear shaft harder against her ax, his grin insufferable, his blue eyes stunning in both their beauty and the depths of absolute disgust swimming within them.

“Clever,” he said. “But pointless. I want you to suffer, Ax, and the best way to do it is damn obvious.”

His knee shot upward, and she realized her error the moment she disengaged. He wasn’t attacking her, only buying himself space. The paragon retreated, his spear swirling in his grasp as if it were impossible for him to hold it still. He bent his legs and then vaulted, the divine strength gifted to him as a paragon carrying him halfway up the building, which he kicked off to send himself soaring ever higher. Stasia swung her ax at him, but he was too high, too fast. He landed on the rooftops, rolled to preserve his momentum, and then leaped once more.

All time slowed. A wordless scream tore from Stasia’s throat. The paragon descended, his spear leading, its impossibly sharp point aimed straight for Clarissa’s spine. Light sparkled off his sapphire plate. The image burned into Stasia’s mind, carved deep with horror. No words, no time for thoughts, only terror that this frozen moment would scar so deeply, she might never recover. She screamed, and screamed, waiting for the spear to pierce through her lover’s back and emerge from her chest. One more precious person taken from her. One more joyful light snuffed out by the damnable empire.

A blur of bone and fur flashed overhead, colliding with the paragon with such force, metal shrieked. Mari flipped in place, all her momentum transferred into her foe. The paragon flew aside, limbs hanging limp as he smashed headfirst through the window of the nearby home amid a shower of glass and wood.

“On me!” Mari ordered, her snarl translated by the word-lace she wore. Clarissa climbed atop the Lioness, legs wrapping about her sides and her arms locking together about her neck. Stasia’s relief was so great, she could almost cry, but they weren’t safe yet. There would be time later to collapse in Clarissa’s arms and bathe her with tears and kisses. For now, they must run.