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Back We Are Blood and Thunder Save as PDF
Chapters (32)
  1. PROLOGUE
  2. ONE
  3. TWO
  4. THREE
  5. FOUR
  6. FIVE
  7. SIX
  8. SEVEN
  9. EIGHT
  10. NINE
  11. TEN
  12. ELEVEN
  13. TWELVE
  14. THIRTEEN
  15. FOURTEEN
  16. FIFTEEN
  17. SIXTEEN
  18. SEVENTEEN
  19. EIGHTEEN
  20. NINETEEN
  21. TWENTY
  22. TWENTY-ONE
  23. TWENTY-TWO
  24. TWENTY-THREE
  25. TWENTY-FOUR
  26. TWENTY-FIVE
  27. TWENTY-SIX
  28. TWENTY-SEVEN
  29. TWENTY-EIGHT
  30. TWENTY-NINE
  31. EPILOGUE
  32. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

And that’s when she realized … she was making it happen. She lifted her hands, and around her fingers sparks flew. The magic was flowing toward the dead man, hissing in the air. All about her the storm quickened, a cold wind tugging at her habit. She gasped, stumbled backward.

The man’s head tilted upward, and Lena felt her legs surrender, her knees sinking into the forest mulch.

She stared at her hands. “Stop it, just stop it!” She closed them into fists, but the sensation didn’t stop—and she understood suddenly that the magic was not her servant: she belonged to the magic. The dead man’s face was shrouded in a thick black scarf, the hood fallen over his forehead as he rose to his feet. And now his eyes were glowing in the semi-darkness like a pair of flickering beacons. Narrowing at the sight of her face.

She felt suffocated. She felt like she couldn’t breathe.

The eyes narrowed again. Was the dead man … smiling?

Why am I here?

Distantly, she remembered Emris’s voice. The Binding.

Is this just a test, set by a cruel god?

She tried to breathe, but the air was wet and close. She choked, grasping her throat. Maybe this was normal. Maybe she was okay. Maybe this was all part of the process. Was it?

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe.

Her hands crackled with magic as the dead man walked closer. And closer. And closer. She had to stop this before he reached her. She gasped for precious air and prayed with all her might, no longer caring to whom she prayed, only that her pleas be answered.

Help me. Faul. Anyone. Please!

She pressed her palms together tightly, trying to smother the power fizzing around her fingers. As she gasped in another tiny breath, the dead man nearly upon her, she noticed a figure standing at the side of her vision. A tall man carrying a bow notched with a single arrow, his face hidden by a low gray hood.

“Please!” she mouthed, the dead man’s hands reaching for her neck.

The hunter loosed his arrow. Lena felt iron pierce through the center of her palms, pressed together in prayer. A hot white heat ran through her blood in a rush, a river bursting its banks—then dark and coldness claimed her.

TEN

Falling