He tipped his head, his stare turning flat.
Fighting a grin, I stepped back, a little surprised I could still smile. “You ready to do this?”
Cas nodded.
I turned from them, calling upon the essence to open the realms as I held an image of Nyktos in my mind. The air charged with energy as an irregular circle of eather appeared, crackling and spitting as it doubled in size. The silver light pulsed and then contracted.
A frown tugged at my brows. I summoned the essence once more. The same thing happened, this time taking on more of an oval shape, only about a foot wide and narrowed at the top and bottom.
“I don’t think it’s working,” Kieran noted.
“I don’t understand,” I muttered, pushing harder with my will.
The tear lengthened to about my height, and I felt Delano’s wagging tail smack my leg. “Finally—”
I heard a sharp pop, and light burst outward in a shimmery wave of silver eather toward the throne and the Temple doors.
The tear still didn’t open.
“Is it supposed to do this?” Malik asked.
“No.” I placed my hands on my hips. “What the…?”
“Let me try it.” Casteel stepped forward, his chin lowered as Attes crossed his arms.
I felt the essence rise in him and the push of his will. The tear in front of me widened another few inches. If he managed to open it…
Silver light pulsed as the center of the opening flared. The scent of…sandalwood drifted out.
“Are you kidding me?” I muttered, eyes narrowing on his smug smile.
He winked. “Looks like I’m more special—”
“Uh, guys?” Malik said, stepping back as he bent and grabbed a fistful of Delano’s fur. “I don’t think it’s opening.”
The sudden awareness of power—old, unfathomable power—bore down on us, snapping our heads back to the tear.
“I think something is coming through,” Kieran finished, his hand going to where his short sword would’ve usually been strapped to him as Malik continued pulling Delano back.
Casteel threw his arm out in front of me as the opening pulsed and—
Delano yelped as a head popped out.
An actual head with golden-brown hair—and, yes, shoulders—popped out of the tear.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Attes muttered.
The head lifted, and I immediately recognized the high, angular cheekbones, the eyes with the distinctively feline upward tilt at the corners, and the burnt-sienna markings along the sides of his face.
“Thorne?” I gasped.
Eyes that were a kaleidoscope of blue, green, and brown met mine as the silver light of the tear sparked and flickered. “Hello, Penellaphe.”
“Hi.” I drew out the word as tension poured into Casteel. “Uh…” I shook my head, feeling as if I should introduce him for some reason. “This is Casteel. And—”
“And Kieran,” Thorne finished. The lines of Kieran’s features tightened. “The one who has the wolven in a headlock—”
Wait. What? I looked back, and…yep, Malik had a growling Delano in a headlock.
