turned into a blade, slicing through Eve's thin cloak and biting into her sweat-soaked skin. He

nce. The guards would com

urned thirteen, the first time her fingers closed around the hilt of "Rebellion." The blade had hummed in her grip, a jo

less sprint. Ten steps. Fifteen. Twenty. The holy pressure clamped down on her, try

eplaced by shocked murmurs. Maybe she was going

f hope swelled

t out a wailing shriek. It was a sound of absolut

he stairs. It rolled down the stone steps, crackling with r

t her body was already past its limit. Her muscles l

puppet cut from its strings. She tumbled down the hard stone stairs, her limbs flopping at unnatural angles. Agony exploded everywhere-a

mixing with the sickening thud

ous thought wasn't of the pain, but of a sharp, piercing betrayal. Rebellion? she screamed in the silence of

ss faded in

demned criminal. Touching her was bad luck, maybe even treason. A few people r

helpe

he tension coiled in his massive frame. He watched the crumpled, bloody figure at the bottom of the stairs. The bla

of her, and shook their heads. They waved off the crowd, declari

and the darkness th

oved like a ghost. He crossed the distance to her, kneeling in the pool of her blood. He reached out

ir touched his fing

gone. He slid one arm under her shattered knees and the other behind her back. He lifted her with

s back on the Holy Stairs, and walked toward the dilapid