Another roar. Another wall of heat.
The dragon shifts, circling the building. Hunting.
“It’s coming around—” Rowan yells at my side.
“Fuck,” I gasp. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—” I twist up to look at him. “Do you... do you know how to fight a dragon?”
He stares back, just as wrecked.
“Lyra! Rowan!” Ezzy’s voice cuts through the smoke from somewhere behind us.
My head whips toward it. No. No, no, she’s out in the open. Mid-run. Exposed. Halfway to the ruined building, about fifty metres away from us and fifty metres fromit.
I want to scream,Don’t shout, don’t move, but it’s already too late. The dragon turns, shifting toward her, massive body coiling with intent. A deep rumble echoes in its chest, and then flames erupt from its jaws. The blast doesn’t hit her directly, but the pressure knocks her clean off her feet. She slams into the ground hard, skidding in the dirt.
Through the smoke, I see her try to rise—but her leg buckles and the dragon keeps stalking towards her. God, she doesn’t stand a chance.
Rowan’s head spins to me. Chest heaving, face just as white as mine. And I know, I knowthatlook. My heart drops.
“No,” I whisper. “Rowan, don’t?—”
He grabs my hand—tight, grounding—and squeezes once. “Go.” He orders. “Help her.”
Before I can say anything, before I can beg, he’s gone, running straight into the open.
“HEY!” he shouts, voice breaking. “OVER HERE!”
Wind slams outward, sharp as blades, as he flings his Threads wide—driving them straight at the dragon’s side.
No reaction.
The dragon just keeps pacing toward Ezzy. Step by step. Massive. Unstoppable. For a second, my lungs hold still, but then Rowan throws again—harder this time, magic cracking like thunder.
The dragonpauses. Turns. Finally. It paces toward Rowan with terrifying speed. Then, when it reaches him, it rears back, its wing slams out, hitting him full-force.
Rowan flies. Like a rag doll, and slams into the ground with a sickening sound I never want to hear again.
He crumples. Doesn’t move.
I roll forward, edging around the building, throat tight, heart hammering so hard I can barely hear anything else.
The dragon looms over him now—Smoke leaking from between its teeth, breathing hard, preparing for something worse.
It’s going to burn him.
Then—
A new sound.
Deeper. Heavier.
The wind shifts.
And a second dragon drops from the sky.
Larger, dark orange scales, eyes like molten gold. It slams into the earth between them—massive wings folding like a wall of fire and thunder. Dust surges outward. Even the black-eyed dragon reels back, hissing.
For a second, nothing.
