The fall felt endless.
Wind screamed past my ears as my body crashed through branches, my shoulder burning with pain. The scene turned into a furious green and gray blur until the ground surged up like a fist.
Then.
Crack.
Agony.
White-hot. Splintering.
I struck the ground in the trees with a horrible thud, and pain shot through my ribs and hip. My vision exploded with stars. I couldn’t scream. I couldn't get air. The smell of dirt, pine, and blood—so much blood—took over my whole universe.
The trees above me were still.
The war was far behind me now.
My fingers twitched. I was alive. But barely.
When I tried to move, the collar around my neck dug against my skin. My right leg wouldn’t respond. Something was broken.
Something was wrong.
“Ayla,” I whispered, voice shredded. My
