Women in the small kingdom of Aeriana are disappearing.
Iris Daniels, a budding painter in the East Territory, is trying to keep her head down. In a kingdom filled with abilities, music, and Destined love, Iris is determined to build a career out of...
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"' I need the phone number for the Aerianan Palace.'
'I'm an assistant, not a miracle worker.'
'You're both. It's why I hired you.'"
—Conversation between Commander Jackson Leonger and his assistant Avery, Sarian Palace, Sarias
Rubble. The warehouse was nothing but rubble. By the time he reached it, the wind had died, and the sky was clear. Wylan skid the vehicle to a stop and bolted.
Bits and pieces of roofing, metal, wood, and piles of concrete rested where a warehouse once stood.
Wylan rushed directly to it. His heart pounded in his chest, his veins nothing but a mixture of adrenaline and icy fear. This wasn't destruction, this was devastation.
His mind whispered the potential reality to him. But he refused to listen. Not Iris. It wouldn't be Iris. Not after all they went through. Not after all he'd done to keep her safe.
Not before he could tell her what she was to him.
"Iris!" Wylan called out. The sun started to set, but he'd use whatever daylight he had left. Searching. "Iris!"
He stepped over concrete, slid on metal beams. Pushing right into the wreckage.
"Agent! Agent Garrick!"
Wylan turned, only now remembering the other agents who'd jumped into the car with him.
"Agent, we need to call in a search and rescue team," the dark-skinned agent who'd rode passenger told him. John. "If anyone's still alive in there, we need the tools to dig them out."
"Call Kit Garrick. Tell her to send everything she has immediately." Wylan told him. "Iris is in there. We'll spread out and find her in the meantime."
When he found her, he'd do whatever he needed to get her out. Whatever it took.
"Iris!" Wylan called out, stepping over mounds of concrete and rubble. Fear and anxiety swallowed him whole, piling heavier and heavier with every carefully placed step he took.
"Iris!"
She had to be alive. She had to. Someone like Iris didn't just die. Not like this. Her ability would have protected her.
Right?
But as the seconds turned to minutes, and the minutes turned to an hour. As the rescue team arrived and agents swarmed the area, as they blocked off the road and barricaded the rubble, as the paramedics arrived on standby, the remains of the warehouse stayed quiet.
It took so long. It took so long. Each piece of concrete and debris had to be carefully removed, calculated, and gently relocated.
And with each piece, Wylan knew. She was in here. Somewhere.
