MALAKAI'S POV

The iron lock gave way with a violent crack. I lay in the center of the wreckage, my cheek pressed against the cold stone floor, my vision nothing but a dark, bleeding blur. 

The roaring in my ears was deafening, but through it, the heavy thud of boots rushed straight toward me.

Kael didn't hesitate. He dropped to his knees in the middle of the shattered wood and inkpots, his hands moving frantically across my shoulders.

I smelled Clarabel even before she walked in. She stood rooted to the threshold, her eyes wide as she took in the absolute destruction of the room. 

The overturned desk, the splintered...