“I’m not powerless,” she snarled. “I escaped Mount Arax. I survived in the Fironem for three months. I broke Fletcher and Seba out of a prison camp right under Necrovar’s bloody nose—”
She stopped, chest heaving. None of those accomplishments had been hers. G’shídrian had saved her from the volcano. The Flame’shikrim had cared for her. The idea of a prison break had been her idea, but her phoenix friends had executed it.
She was furious at Stonestryker for running from an unwinnable fight, but she was no better than him. She’d been running for months. She was still running. She’d happily run some more if she thought it would improve her chances of survival.
Effrax took her hand. His grip was gentle and warm. “I felt powerless when I lost the Fironem. It was bad enough to lose my kingdom
