Smoke clung to her lungs. It tasted like ash, bitter and sharp, each breath scraping down her throat. Selena stumbled, one hand still gripping the dagger though her arm trembled so badly she almost dropped it.
Kael's hand clamped around her wrist. Not gentle. Not soft. Rough and urgent. "Move." His voice was hoarse, as if the flames had scorched his throat too.
Her feet barely obeyed. Her legs shook under her, knees weak from the fire's rage, from the weight of every staring eye that had burned holes through her back. The courtyard was gone behind them now, swallowed in screams and the clash of steel.
But it wasn't over. Not even close.
Boots hammered against stone somewhere behind. Shouts chased them through the shadowed passageways.
"This way." Kael yanked her down a narrow stairwell. His sword dripped blood she didn't know whose. She didn't dare ask.
