Ready?he asked through the mate connection only she could hear.
Let’s end this,came her fierce reply.
They launched into the sky as one, Kyr taking point while Vaelrik’s massive wings carved through the clouds like obsidian knives. Serenya’s warmth pressed against his neck ridges, her presence steadying him and keeping his shadowfire perfectly balanced.
And from Kyr’s claws, Tamsin’s pure voice rose in her corrected lullaby—notes that resonated in Vaelrik’s sternum like ancient truth, like salvation made audible. The sound alone convinced him that peace could be restored to the Ashen Realms.
This time, we don’t go to survive,Vaelrik thought as the Gloam’s jagged horizon came into view ahead.We go to end it.
The twisted landscape spread below them like a wound in the world—barren, warped, and pulsing with malevolent energy. But for the very first time since he’d been cursed, Vaelrik felt no answering hunger from within his own chest.
Only fierce determination and the absolute certainty that the Shadowbinder’s reign of terror ended today.
Vaelrik’s massive obsidian wings cut through air that tasted of copper and ancient rot, his dragon form carrying Serenya with predatory grace while Kyr’s smaller but more agile frame cradled Tamsin in protective claws. The child’s voice rose in her pure lullaby, each note creating ripples of clean sound that made the corrupted atmosphere recoil.
This place remembers pain,Vaelrik thought as they descended.
The Gloam’s rift yawned open like a mouth waiting to swallow them—reality bending in ways that made his dragon’s instincts scream warnings. But his shadowfire remained steady and controlled.
They landed at the rift’s edge with bone-jarring impact. The ground beneath his claws felt wrong—too cold, pulsing with malevolent life. Vaelrik kept his dragon form, knowing they’d need his full power for what waited below.
Tamsin’s small voice carried across the warped air. “The bad man is here. Down in the dark place where the songs get twisted.”
The Shadow Sovereign’s presence pulsed beneath the surface like a buried heart, watching, waiting, hungering. Vaelrik felt the ancient entity’s attention focus on him with predatory interest—testing the edges of his curse, probing for weakness.
You no longer own me,he projected into the void. Then, he turned his massive head toward Kyr.
We do this once,he sent to Kyr through their mental link.We do it right.
Kyr’s storm-fire crackled along his cobalt-streaked scales in acknowledgment. Serenya’s hand pressed against Vaelrik’s neck ridges, her warmth flooding through him like liquid starlight.
Then, they descended into the rift.
Reality warped around them as they navigated the twisted passages—gravity shifting, perspective bending, the very air seeming to fold in on itself. Vaelrik’s dragon form moved with calculated precision, each step deliberate despite the disorienting magic that tried to confuse his senses. Serenya’s lumen sigils flared beneath her skin, creating pockets of stable reality that guided their path.
The heart of the rift soon opened before them like a cathedral built from nightmares. Blood-fed curse sigils covered every surface, pulsing with sickly light. Dragon blood channels carvedinto obsidian stone trembled with contained power, feeding the runes that held reality hostage.
The Shadowbinder stood at the center, surrounded by his grotesque artistry.
When he turned toward them, his pale eyes locked first on the completed mate mark glowing through Serenya’s shirt, then shifted to Vaelrik’s controlled shadowfire. Something in the warlock’s stitched face cracked—a fissure of disbelief that quickly twisted into rage.
“You killed the flaw,” the Shadowbinder whispered, his voice carrying an almost religious awe. “You balanced the curse.”
His gaze darted between them, taking in the perfect synchronization of their magic, and the way Serenya sat on Vaelrik’s back like she belonged there. The warlock’s composure shattered completely.
“You two were meant to collapse! Not unite and harmonize!”
Vaelrik’s dragon form snarled,We did it because love is stronger than fear,he projected, his mental voice carrying the absolute conviction of truth.
The Shadowbinder slammed his palm into the central curse sigil. The Gloam convulsed around them like a dying beast. Shadow creatures spilled from cracks in reality—hollow dragons with void for eyes, serpents made of screaming darkness, and wolves that howled with the sound of extinguished light.
Vaelrik’s shadowfire erupted in controlled arcs, enhanced by Serenya’s presence and their completed mate bond. He blasted a shadow-drake into ash with precision born from centuries of battle—but the creature reformed instantly, pulling itself back together from the corrupted air.
The Shadow Sovereign is reinforcing them here,he realized with cold fury. This wasn’t shadow-plague anymore. This was reality itself being rewritten, and the ancient entity wanted to test him.
The Shadowbinder lifted a mirror of black glass. Then, reality fractured.
The Gloam disappeared.
