Exiles (Ilyon Chronicles Book 4) by Jaye L. Knight

Author:Jaye L. Knight [Knight, Jaye L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Living Sword Publishing
Published: 2017-08-11T03:00:00+00:00

Kyrin watched the men disappear into the trees and hugged her arms around herself, a chill passing through her even in the bright sunshine. She couldn’t stop the clear images playing in her mind of the time she and Jace had met the band of ryriks in the forest near camp. It still made her shiver and brought occasional nightmares.

“Please, Elôm, protect them,” she whispered.

With a deep breath to calm herself, she shifted her attention to Michael. Her brother stared off at the forest, his shoulders sagging in a deflated stance.

“Hey, Marcus is just keeping his promise to Mother.”

He turned to her, his brows still bent low. “I’m getting old enough to decide for myself if I want to face danger or not.”

Kyrin couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t think older brothers are ever all right with letting their younger siblings put themselves in harm’s way.”

Michael just huffed, and Kyrin motioned to him. Together, they turned their attention to Leetra, who had also remained behind to stitch Sev’s arm. After cleaning away the remaining blood, she applied a salve, and then wrapped it in bandages.

“There,” she said. “In a few days the stitches can come out. Just keep it clean.”

“Thank you.” Sev pushed to his feet, taking his wife’s hand and patting his still weepy little girl on the head. “We’re all right.”

“But what are we going to do about the barn?” the girl whimpered.

They all turned toward it. Flames consumed the entire structure now.

“We’ll just have to build a new one,” Sev said optimistically. “The important thing is we’re all safe.”

Kyrin smiled at the little girl’s pouty face. She reminded Kyrin of Meredith, though she had thick wavy hair the color of ripe wheat.

An uncomfortable prickle crawled along the back of Kyrin’s neck, and she sensed more than heard the movement behind her. A strong arm hooked around her waist, yanking her back against a hard chest. She gasped out a cry as another arm encircled her in a hold of iron.

Leetra and Michael spun around, whipping out their swords. Leetra’s lavender eyes flashed wide, and she took a step forward but stopped at the thick, gravelly voice that growled in Kyrin’s ear.

“Hold it right there or I’ll break her neck.”

A hand rose menacingly to Kyrin’s throat. Her stomach plummeted at the glimpse of distinctive black hair along the man’s forearm. A ryrik. Elôm! A tremor raced through Kyrin’s body, and she struggled against him, but his hold wouldn’t budge. He dragged her backward, toward the trees

Ivoris let out a menacing growl and charged at them. The ryrik swept Kyrin around, using her as a shield against the dragon. Ivy slowed, growling and hissing threats, the air shimmering around her mouth.

“You’d better get her to back off or you’ll die right now.”

Kyrin swallowed against her fear. She hesitated but complied when the ryrik’s grip on her neck tightened.

“Ivy, tolla.”

The dragon hissed again but didn’t come any closer. Leetra’s dragon growled and paced behind her. They resembled angry dogs that couldn’t come to their master’s aid.

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