“Staying here will kill him.” Varyth’s gaze flicked up to mine, and something desperate lurked beneath that controlled surface. “The bleeding is slowing, but he needs a healer. Real healing, not whatever patchwork I can manage in the field.”
Above us, the green dragon let out a cry that was either a challenge or a warning. It circled lower, those amber eyes studying us with uncomfortable intelligence.
“Friend or foe?” I asked, not looking away from Darian’s too-pale face.
“Unknown.” Varyth gathered mist around his arms like armour, silver coils that gleamed with violence. “Wild dragons are unpredictable. Could be territorial, could be curious.”
Darian’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of our voices, unfocused but struggling toward consciousness. “Shadow... dragons,” he wheezed. “More coming.”
Ice slid down my spine. “How many more?”
“Whole... hunting pack.” His hand found mine, fingers slick with blood but warm. Alive. “Caorath saw—they’ll track—” He cut off with a groan.
The green dragon was descending now, its wings spread wide as it prepared to land. I could see the wicked intelligence in its eyes, the way it moved with predatory grace despite having no rider to guide it.
“Thessarian can carry all three of us,” Varyth said, already calculating. “But we’ll be slow, vulnerable.”
“Then leave me.” Darian’s voice was a whisper, but it carried the weight of absolute conviction. “Take her back. Keep her safe.”
“Like hell.” The words ripped from my throat with more venom than I’d intended.
The green dragon touched down fifty yards away, close enough that I could see the scars marking its emerald scales. It moved like a creature that had survived battles, its head low and watchful as it studied us.
It let out another cry, this one softer. Almost... questioning.
But Darian was bleeding out in my arms, and we didn’t have time to decode dragon behaviour.
Varyth was already moving, his hands glowing brighter as he poured more power into whatever healing magic he possessed. But his breathing had gone shallow with effort.
“Can you—” I looked up at Varyth desperately, blood slick on my hands. “The world bending thing. Can you get us back to Edrithas that way?”
Varyth’s face went rigid. “Not with someone this injured. Moving through folded space with trauma like this—” He shook his head. “It would tear him apart from the inside.”
“Fuck.” I pressed harder against Darian’s wound, earning a weak groan from the man himself. His eyes were closed, skin grey as old parchment, but he was breathing. “Fine. Thessarian it is.”
“Bad idea,” Darian mumbled, the words thread-thin. “Too heavy. She can’t?—”
“She’ll have to.” I was already moving, sliding one arm under his shoulders while Varyth took his legs. “Because the alternative is leaving you here to bleed out while shadow dragons circle like fucking vultures.”
Darian let out a pained laugh that turned into a cough. “Always so... diplomatic.”
Getting him onto Thessarian’s back was a nightmare of blood and screams. The obsidian spear made everything complicated, we couldn’t bend him normally, couldn’t position him without risking further damage. In the end, Varyth had to hold himupright while I climbed on first, then we manoeuvred Darian between us.
He was a dead weight against my chest, his breathing shallow and laboured. Blood continued to seep through the makeshift bindings Varyth had managed, staining my shirt and making my hands slippery.
Thessarian shifted beneath us, her wings spreading wide. But I could feel the strain immediately, the way her muscles trembled with the extra weight, the unsteady quality to her breathing.
“This isn’t going to work,” I said as we lifted into the air. “She can barely get us off the ground.”
“She’ll manage.” But Varyth’s voice was tight with concern, fixed on his dragon’s struggling flight. “Thessarian’s stronger than she looks.”
Behind us, shapes appeared on the horizon.
“Company,” I said grimly.
The shadow dragons closed in fast. Three of them this time, larger than the ones we’d fought before. Their wings sliced through the air, and I could see the riders now, figures in dark armour that seemed to absorb light.
Thessarian veered to the left, trying to gain altitude, but she was too heavy. Too slow. The shadow dragons spread out, cutting off our escape routes.
