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Asylum in Firelight: Burning Cinder Book III (#3)
3.1 The Might Of A God Caged In A Storm Of Pain

3.1 The Might Of A God Caged In A Storm Of Pain

Sagan slept as if ants lined her cot. An anxiety unsettled her, which defied placation. A whisper. A call. Now. Go now. She dismissed it at first for sleep loneliness. Since the events of Invasion Day, Rayne slept with Sagan every night. It gutted her to clutch a pillow instead of her best friend. Her girlfriend. The most important person in her life.

She sprung from the cot gripping her axe. After gathering some decent clothes, she rushed to the kitchen.

“You’re searching for her again, aren’t you?” Tameka sounded let down and concerned.

As she climbed into a pair of camo cargo pants and a gray tank, she sought the best words for this. How did she explain it? “How’s your sleep been, Tameka?”

The other girl lowered her head.

Sagan shoved a six-inch combat knife in her pants. “It’s not the same. I know it’s not. I can’t explain it better than that. I’m going.”

“I know what you’re going through—”

“If it were Xelan—Tameka, if he were in that castle…” She let the scenario finish itself.

Tameka clutched her by the arms and pulled her into a tight embrace. “I can’t go with you.”

Curious. Sagan expected to fight the redhead to go alone. “I wasn’t asking. The fewer people with me, the better I can Seamswalk. Now…” She stepped back and stared into her green eyes. “Don’t let anyone else go off on another half-cocked plan. Keep the unit together. I’m coming back. And I’m bringing Rayne.”

Tameka’s breath hitched. “I love you.” She said it like she needed to say it.

“I love you.” A conduit to the Seam opened behind her. She leveled her axe at her best friend. “Coming back. Bringing Rayne.” Then she slipped into Nox’s Castle.

After trying for weeks, she felt it in her bones this was the right chamber. A vast square space cut into the rock, vaulted high to the open sky above. A downhill ramp led to a lake. Korac stood in the center over a bizarre box.

Her heart racing, she slipped back into a corridor and lingered out of sight. His shining hair pulled high and away from his face still reached the middle of his back. This way, his sharp features stood out. His lips appeared softer—

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Sagan shook her head. Don’t lose perspective. He stole away the girl you love with no intention of freeing her. Nevermind, he wore a black mesh shirt allowing her glimpses of his ashen muscular body all the way to the thumb holes. His tight pants a patchwork of black leather, denim, and silk. The ever-present matching axe sheathed at his hip. Goth warrior fantasy. Nope. Not distracted at all. She almost groaned at her incessantly disagreeable hormones.

“…the Tantamount at the Caldera.”

What was he saying? She leaned further into the opening. Korac muttered plans to the box. “Disarming it requires blood. At least one Icari. Possibly two or three humans. Drained. But I know you’ll find a way, General.”

Rayne. She clasped her hand over her mouth. They locked Rayne inside that coffin. Rage threatened to scorch Sagan. She gripped her axe tight and clenched her jaw shut to stave the screaming primitive fury from escaping.

After weeks of conflicting feelings about Korac, she found herself even more conflicted. He followed orders like a proper soldier. She understood. But how could she reconcile this? Especially as something whirred inside the box, and he watched with clinical fascination. Was it doing something terrible to Rayne’s body?

The mechanism silenced after a brief time, to Sagan’s relief. Korac muttered something else too quiet for her to catch. His wings expanded, and she scolded herself for losing her breath at the sight. It reminded her of the promise between them. Her heart squeezed as he vanished through the open ceiling.

Hot tears fell on her cheeks. She smeared them away with the heels of her palms. Free Rayne from that torture chamber and get the hell out. She took a step through the doorway when a shape formed in the shadows gathered at one corner. Shit. She pressed her back once more against the stone. Sagan scanned around the corner. The shape unfolded into a person. She stifled a gasp on the back of her hand.

Celindria. As she made her way to the lake’s shore, the look in her eyes made Sagan shudder. Murder. She came here to kill Rayne. The psychopath glided across the water to their leader on an Enki skid.

After a quick prayer to whomever, Sagan walked into the Seam and stepped out between Celindria and Rayne. No energy wasted on words. She swung the axe at the First Progeny’s neck.

The woman startled at the sight of her, but recovered quickly. She dodged so fast Sagan missed the movement. Celindria knocked the younger woman’s knees out from under her. “I am not here to hurt you.” The calm in her voice stunned Sagan.

“Then why the hell are you—”

The prism behind her thrummed. Slowly, they both peered at it. The device filled with—was that blood—was not thrumming. It was Rayne.

A shrill wail pierced her ears. Every follicle of hair on her body stood straight up. Electricity crackled and zapped along her skin. That’s when her best friend’s alabaster skin emanated a light. Dim to start. But, as Sagan stared, the brilliance intensified. It reminded her of Xelan in Umbra’s Spire.

“Rayne?”

Celindria cried, “Get down!” And threw herself on Sagan, sending them both crashing into the water.