Iris’s voice pulled Cas from his shock. He hadn’t even noticed that she’d gotten up from the sofa until she had spoken from right beside him. Hurriedly, he nodded and scrambled to his feet as well, knowing that she was right about needing to leave before the building came down on top of them. The mental image of being buried alive was more than enough to make him move quickly, grabbing what he could from the kitchen counter before he followed her to the door to escape into the open.

While they rushed outside, his thoughts wound up back in the state of confusion he’d felt when he’d first seen the bombers overhead. He still couldn’t believe that his father had permitted an air strike on any of the districts when he was still missing. Was Atlas completely unconcerned with bringing him home? Even if he didn’t care personally about what became of him, he would have thought that the king would be eager to make sure his only heir survived long enough to take over the throne. Apparently, he’d overestimated his father even about that.

Normally, he would have caught himself when his thoughts edged into such insecurities, but for as optimistic as he was, even he couldn’t think of a reason why Atlas would be risking his life like this. No matter which way he looked at it, the monarch didn’t seem to care if he came home still breathing or in a casket. The realization made his chest feel tight. His own father cared more about fighting the Scourge than he did about his own son’s safety. He would have been lying if he’d said he’d never suspected it, especially since he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d heard the king say he was proud of him, but knowing it with certainty pained him like a knife through his heart.

Caught up in his thoughts, he barely registered that they had made it out of the complex. It was only when a second bomb dropped over the nearby district that he was brought back to the present. He inhaled sharply, unable to stay upright when there was nothing around to hold onto and the ground felt like it was being ravaged by an earthquake. At least this time, there was no roof over their heads to fall down on them. The breath fled from his lungs as he was knocked sideways by the shockwave and hit the pavement hard.

For a moment he didn’t move, gathering his bearings after he’d hit his head on the cement. When he was somewhat coherent again, he reached out for Iris’s arm—or whatever part of her was within reach that he could touch—and grabbed her clothes. [color=#b97703]“Just stay down,”[/color] he hissed, grimacing as he felt warm blood trickle from somewhere above his right temple. With nowhere safe to hide, being out in the street like this was the safest they were going to get. As long as the last bomb didn’t fall on top of them, they could survive the attack.

Although he knew their odds were better outside, his heart still hammered with panic. Without thinking, he crawled over to Iris and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest. The gesture was partly a futile but instinctive desire to shield her from the bombs with his body, but it was mostly prompted by his fear that they were still very much in danger. Waiting for the last bomb to drop, he squeezed his eyes shut and held onto her tightly, praying that it would fall far enough away that they wouldn’t be killed in the next shockwave.