Kingdom of Ash

panted on the battlements, her feathers as
bloody as her rider.
Sartaq gripped her shoulders. “Are you
hurt?” She’d never seen such panic in his face.
Nesryn only pointed to the now-still
enemy, unable to find the words.
But others did. One word, one name, over
and over. Yrene.
Healers raced up the battlements, aiming
for both ruks, and Nesryn allowed herself to
slide her arms around Sartaq’s waist. To press
her face against his armored chest.
“Nesryn.” Her name was a question and a
command. But Nesryn only held him tightly.
So close. They had come so, so close to utter
defeat.
Yrene. Yrene. Yrene, the soldiers and
people of the city shouted.
Sartaq ran a hand down her matted hair.
“You know what victory means, don’t you?”