He glances at me, breath barely uneven, a smug little smirk tugging at his mouth.
I bark a short laugh, adrenaline still screaming in my veins. “Show-off,” I breathe, and his smirk widens.
And together, we turn back toward the oncoming dark—ready for the next wave.
“Asha!”Craize snarls as a massive blast hurtles toward me. I raise the shield—too late—
Craize slams into me, shoving me aside as the attack tears through the air. He skids back, claws digging deep into the earth.
“I told you not to get killed!” I shout, pulling myself up from the ground.
‘And I told you to move faster,’he retorts, shaking out his wings.
The Siphon’s army circles us again, dozens this time, eyes empty, powers glowing.
I tighten my grip on the shield, standing strong at Craize’s side.
“We have to wake them,” I say through my teeth.
Craize bares his fangs, eyes blazing like molten gold.
‘Then let us wake them all.’
“Go high,” I breathe to Craize, and in a heartbeat, he surges upward, wings slicing through the air. He hovers above me, a white blur against the fractured sky.
I summon light into my palms—bright, volatile, rippling with the gem’s power. The orbs thrum like living stars, eager and unrestrained. I hurl them upward, one after another.
Craize beats his wings once, hard, then again.
The gust catches the orbs and scatters them, sending them plummeting toward the ground like falling meteors. They burst against the earth in sharp flashes of gold and violet, the shockwaves rippling through the enthralled surrounding me.
Each impact jolts them—their eyes flickering, their bodies jerking as if something inside snaps free.
One drops to their knees, gasping. Another staggers backwards, clutching their head. A third blinks hard, confusion flooding their features as the trance shatters.
Craize sweeps overhead, circling, ready for my next command.
And for the first time since stepping into this chaos, the tide shifts.
We’re no longer surviving—we’re winning.
One by one, the enthralled snap back to themselves, and suddenly the battlefield tilts in our favour. We have more breathing with us than against us.
A shriek tears across the treetops, sharp enough to split the air. Then a glow flares in the distance—an ember so bright it swallows the forest canopy in molten orange.
The cage of fire.
Ryder’s done it. He’s trapped the Siphon.
Hope surges through me, fierce and as hot as the rising flames. I take a fast sweep of the battlefield—Ziek rallying newly freed fighters, Ciara healing with trembling hands, River a blur of blue-lit knives, Craize circling overhead like a winged guardian. They’re holding strong. We all are.
“Come on—we have to go,” I call, breathless but steady.
Craize swoops lower, wings kicking up dirt in a swirling gust. I leap onto his back, settling into the curve of his spine just as River vaults up behind me with practised ease.
Craize coils, muscles bunching.
And then we’re airborne—racing toward the fire, toward Ryder, toward the heart of everything that must end tonight.
