The Shadow Queen (Ravenspire, #1)(71)
A slender branch unfurled from a crossbeam beneath the bridge, wrapped itself around her waist, and held her suspended above the water.
She grabbed it, magic stinging her palms, and poured her power into the bridge. “Kaz`ja! Tear yourself free.”
A queen smashed her fist through the bottom of the bridge and wrapped her fingerless hand around the crossbeam whose branch kept Lorelai safe.
“Now!” Lorelai yelled, and the bridge shuddered violently, sending a king to his knees.
Pillars split with a loud crack. Crossbeams curled away from their moorings. The crack that had begun in the center of the bridge split the structure end to end, and the bridge tore itself asunder with a tremendous clatter. Broken planks spun through the air and into the river. The two halves of the bridge twisted and sagged, and then the entire thing ripped free of the riverbanks and plummeted into the water, carrying the stone statues with it.
Lorelai sucked in a breath as the crossbeam holding her fell, and then she sank into the water, surrounded by debris. The current snatched at her, but there was too much wood, too much wreckage, for it to carry her very far.
You’re going to be crushed! Kol sent her an image of giant stone statues crashing into the water on top of her.
The river’s heart swept over her open palm and lingered. Save me, Lorelai begged the water, though she couldn’t open her mouth to say the words aloud. She hoped that since the heart was already hers, already tangled with her magic, that she wouldn’t have to speak for it to know her intentions.
A shadow slammed into the water above her, and an impossible weight sank into her and pinned her to the riverbed. Kol’s thoughts became a torrent of panic and furious desperation.
Her lungs ached for air.
Her muscles strained against the statue that anchored her.
And her magic blazed out of her hand, lashing through the water like a whip.
The river surged against her hand.
Please, she begged as lights danced at the edge of her vision. Save me.
The river’s heart merged with her magic and became a ribbon of brilliant light. It sliced into the statue, and the stone exploded into a flurry of tiny pieces that tumbled around Lorelai before rushing south with the water’s current. The ribbon of light wrapped around Lorelai’s waist and lifted. She broke the surface and gasped for air while the river’s heart gently pushed her to the bank where Kol had waded into water up to his waist, Gabril three steps behind him.
Kol reached for her, and she took his hands as he pulled her from the water. And then Gabril was holding her, his chin resting on her head.
“You just took ten years off my life,” Gabril said.
You really did. Kol climbed up the bank and then reached back to help them. That was the most terrifying, incredible thing I’ve ever seen.
She held Gabril for an extra second, and then stepped back. “We need to get away from here before Irina sends something else to attack us.”
“Still heading toward the intersection?” Gabril asked.
She nodded, and together they climbed the riverbank.
The intersection?
Where the main road leading east to west meets the road leading north to south. Those are the roads the rest of Irina’s army will have to use to get to the capital. I’m going to destroy it, and I’m sure Irina will try to stop me.
Kol’s smile lit something bright and burning in Lorelai’s chest. I bet my life she’ll fail.
I’m betting my life on that too.
TWENTY-NINE
HURT. PUNISH. KILL. The whispers trickled through Kol’s mind, blood-hungry and ruthless, and he moved restlessly against the blanket he’d borrowed from Gabril. His dragon heart kicked against his chest, and his bones ached as the collar punished him for his refusal to obey its command.
His refusal to kill Lorelai.
She lay on the other side of the tent. Gabril’s tall form stretched out on a bedroll between them. A tiny sliver of moonlight crept in through the tent flap and lingered against her face. Kol sat up, wrapped his hands around his knees, and studied her the way he couldn’t when she was awake and aware of his thoughts.
In the days it had taken them to move from the ruined bridge to the intersection of the major roads that bisected Ravenspire, Kol had become as intimately familiar with Lorelai’s thoughts as he was with his own.
He was fascinated by the way her mind worked—constantly observing and analyzing every detail around her, making plans for handling danger in less time than it took most people to realize they needed a plan in the first place. He’d had classes on battle strategy, he’d had drills on instantly responding to dangerous situations, but he relied on what he knew—on solutions that were already proven. Lorelai looked for new information, new options, and instantly utilized them.
And the way she threw herself into danger because she had a plan—and sky forbid she back away from the goal she was trying to achieve—made something fierce and tender swell inside Kol’s chest. Every time he turned around, she was assessing risk, not to avoid it but to take the lion’s share of it herself.
She made him want to be a better warrior. A better king.
He stared at the way her skin glowed in the moonlight and admitted that, skies help him, he was drawn to her in ways he couldn’t think about while she was awake and inside his head. There was nothing casual or ordinary about Lorelai, and there was nothing casual or ordinary about the way she made him feel. She was iron and fire, a warrior’s spirit with a lion’s heart. His parents would’ve loved her.