Between Tides & Thunder

My face is wet with tears. Or is it rain? It can’t be rain. I’m in my closet. Where is Mama?

The carriage I escaped explodes into millions of tiny pieces, wood chips spraying out in a shower of jagged edges.

That gets Zevayr’s attention.

His head snaps toward the sound, then swivels frantically until his gaze lands on me. His brows furrow. Concern? Anger? Another bolt of lightning crashes down, barely a foot to my left, and I scream and scream and scream. A body collapses beside me.

I’m not a betrothed princess anymore. I’m six years old again.

The door is opening.

The thunder is angry.

The world is burning. And

I

can’t

breathe.

The thud of boots grows louder. Lightning flashes, silhouetting the shadows of their feet. Where is Mama?

“It’s the princess!” a voice calls out. “Don’t hurt her!”

That’s the last thing I hear before the world snuffs out.