Lavish Destruction (The Last Tritan Book 3) by Myra Danvers

Author:Myra Danvers [Danvers, Myra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-06-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

I don’t recall hearing the High Priestess calling for help she didn’t need. Don’t have a clear memory of her office-turned-crime-scene filling with soldiers, for I’d been left dangling on the edge between conscious and not. Head throbbing from blunt-force trauma, she’d left me with scarcely enough ki to keep my eyes open, let alone contend with darkness or do as she bade, and run.

But when one of the general’s men stepped over me—kicking a golden circlet and ancient shriveled relic to the side—I cringed. Pressing my back to the furthest wall, I bumped the back of my head and the wound seeped in dirt and bits of shattered clay.

The other soldier, the softer one whose name had been purged from memory, stooped before me. His brow furrowed, lips moving, though they couldn’t be heard over the ocean roaring and sloshing inside my head. Instead, deft fingers snatched the ends of my torn dress, concealing my chest and fresh bruises, both.

But I couldn’t be bothered with modesty, not after what the High Priestess had taken. Not now, while she wielded the power of three, and used it to save General fucking Tilcot.

My bleary gaze drifted to the fiend in question—and found him returning to wakefulness. Dark eyes glassy and rolling, yet open.

The realization sent adrenaline surging through my overwrought body, and I struggled to sit. Pulling from reserves I probably shouldn’t, I pushed at Aiden’s hands. Demanding space enough to breathe.

“…need supplies,” the High Priestess barked, her voice tinny and distorted, peeking above the waves of absence. “Get whoever is available at this hour and help me lift him. Oh,” she added, jerking her chin toward me, “and get her out of here, Aiden. The girl is in shock.”

I shook my head, scrubbing glass-speckled hands over my cheek before I registered the pain.

“Goddess, Mila,” Alicia breathed, appearing in the doorway. “Lass, what happened?” The green-eyed traitor extended a hand that shook, taking a step toward me. “I can escort the lady—”

“No,” the High Priestess snapped, head jerking up at the sound of Alicia’s lilting, accented voice. “I need competent hands here. Aiden will take her to Captain Rawlings. You will stay. Reese—get me a stretcher.”

I didn’t wait to see what glittered in her eyes. Didn’t want to see her victory reflected on Alicia’s pretty face, or see how deep their duplicity ran, so I allowed Aiden to help me stand, shucked his touch, then turned to flee.

The general’s lips gaped, bewildered scowl spinning around the cramped room, until it landed on my face. For a moment, he seemed to chew on a sentiment lodged somewhere between hate and terror, lips moving around a single, damning yet unspoken word. “Bitch.”

Before he could muster the strength to condemn me, I shouldered my way through the crowd of Elites and Priestesses alike. Stumbling. Shoving onlookers aside with palms full of glass, the torn edges of my dress flapped in the breeze, drawing shocked murmurs and helpful, cloying hands.

Chest too tight to draw breath or sustain my flight, I rejected them all, not stopping until I burst onto cobbled streets.

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