Valka
Stone streaks past beneath my feet, my arm wrenched painfully in Rafael's grip. My body feels both weightless and unbearably heavy, eyes raw from smoke and dust, throat stinging as the wound tries and fails to close.
"Keep moving," he hisses, shoving me forward. His voice is ragged, his control slipping. The air trembles with shouts, the clash of steel, the thunder of boots.
Something detonates behind us, another explosion, this time a raging battle cry of men, and Rafael jerks us back as a legion bursts through the doors ahead.
A familiar dark haired male stands at the forefront and his equally dark eyes land on me in a second and widen. But the men behind us rush forward, cutting off Trenton's path to me as Rafael swerves left, tugging me down a flight of steps that coughed dust from the scones. "Do not let them through," he hisses at his men.
"Where are you taking me?"
