LIGHTFALL (The Starchaser Saga Book 4) by Renee Dugan

Author:Renee Dugan [Dugan, Renee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: WAVE WALKER PRESS
Published: 2021-06-14T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

IT WAS HAPPENING again.

Kalt Hasa’s dark walls around him, shadows locked like fetters over his wrists and ankles. But it was not Cistine his father attacked this time, it was Ariadne, her heartbroken face turned to him, eyes full of betrayal that he didn’t help her, that he couldn’t break free even to save her.

He hadn’t stopped any of it. Hadn’t spared her this trial or protected her sister or kept his cabal safe like he swore.

His cabal—

Kalt Hasa’s walls became catacomb tunnels, a prison of rock and steel grates with Aden trapped on the other side, reaching out to him, a plea for salvation on his lips. But though Thorne’s heart ached, his feet turned and he walked away from the man who’d been like his brother, who raised him like a father and loved him like the other half of his own heart.

Shadowed arms twined around Aden from behind and dragged him screaming into the pits of the Blood Hive, and Thorne just walked away.

He jerked awake from that, retching, flinging off the sheets and shifting to rise from the bed—but he couldn’t. His legs wouldn’t move.

Gripping the sheets in a trembling fist, he stared at his lower half, willing his toes to wiggle, his feet to press into the bed. Nothing. Only spectral sizzles of pain along his nerves—then gone.

Breathing hard, tears slipping unbidden down his cheeks, Thorne watched his body fail him. And he could do nothing about it, couldn’t help himself—just like he hadn’t helped his family.

It seemed like hours before Cistine said his name from behind the door, though he couldn’t muster a response. It cracked open, and he felt more than saw her relieved smile when she spied him sitting up, awake. “There you are! Didn’t you hear me call you? You missed breakfast, I waited forever for—”

“I can’t move.”

The voice didn’t sound like his. The words couldn’t be his.

Cistine halted on the periphery of his sight. “What?”

“My legs. I can’t feel my legs.” He raised his eyes to her, desperate, barely swallowing his panic.

Cistine came to the side of the bed and sat, running her hand up his bare leg. He might’ve felt immodest any other day, wearing only a pair of flannel half-trousers ending midway down the thigh and having her fingers on his calves and knees and feet, but he was too terrified to be embarrassed. “You can’t feel that?”

“Nothing.” His fingers twisted the sheet into sweat-soaked knots. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Were you having a nightmare?”

His vision danced with the imprint of her face, Ariadne’s face, Aden’s face. Haltingly, he nodded.

Crossing her own legs, Cistine lifted his foot into her lap and kneaded the sole. “Look at me, Thorne. Breathe. You aren’t paralyzed, you’re just tense.”

He wanted to believe that, but nothing like this had ever happened to him before, and he couldn’t move his stars-damned legs. “What if I’m not? If the feeling doesn’t come back…” If he couldn’t train, couldn’t fight, couldn’t walk into meetings or stand before his father—

Cistine held his gaze unflinchingly.

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