I push hard, a brutal rhythm crashing through me. I’m close now. So close I almost believe it, one more step and I’m clear.
Light slams into me—full force, no warning—burning across my vision as I break from the dark alley into the sunlit square. Too fast, too bright.
I’m running blind, legs still driving, vision blown open. I don’t see the apple, just feel it, round and solid, sliding under my boot, twisting my ankle sideways. Pain rips through the joint as the ground smashes up to meet me, shoulder-first.
Beth’s there before I can blink, towering over me.
Fuck, she’s fast.
Ryven slower, lingering behind, breathless at the alley mouth, but a slow smirk bleeds across his face like he’s already won.
Shit, shit, shit.
I try to move, push off the ground, ankle screaming, then the air shifts.
Pressure slams through the square, hot and heavy, laced with smoke and something else. A second later, something hits the ground behind me, vibrations kicking through the stone, through my palms, up my spine.
Beth freezes.
Ryven stares—smirk still stuck like his brain hasn’t caught up yet. Then his face drains, pale and stiff, hands lifting like it’ll help and he bolts—full sprint, gone down the alley.
Behind me, someone screams, voice high and cracked, all panic.
“D-D-D... DRAGON!!”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Flames rip through the square like thrown spears, bright, fast, and screaming. They hit with a shudderingroar, bursting across rooftops and market stalls, turning wood and stone into splinters. Fire surges outward in violent waves, lighting up the square in red and gold.
Then comes the heat.
Real heat. Heavy and instant. The kind that doesn’t just touch skin—itpunchesthrough it. Smoke quickly follows, thick as ink, curling around my legs, clawing up my throat, filling my lungs until I can’t breathe.
Can’t see.
Can’tthink.
The air smells the same, tastes the same. Burnt wood, hot metal. And just like that, my mind snaps back to that night. The crack and collapse of wood, my mother’s cries, the door that won’t open. I choke. I can’t stop it.
Then a scream—closer, sharper—drags me back.Somewhere to my left, someone letting out a raw gutting wail but it vanishes into the fury of fire and falling stone.
Focus, Lyra. Not then.Now. I squeeze my eyes shut for a second, just to reset. God, all I wanted was to make a run for it—get out, away from the Citadel, from Talen. But now? Now I just want to survive the next five minutes without becoming dragon fuel. And to do that, I need to move. Fast.
Exhaling hard, I force my eyes back open. Ryven’s gone. Beth’s gone. Smoke stings, thick in the back of my throat as I turn in a circle, searching. Nothing but rubble, fire-glow, and the dark shape of somethingmovingin the haze.
Panic hits first, tight in my chest, breath snatched short, then my Threads surge, magic spikes, climbing my spine like rising pressure before a storm.
Bless them.Even at full strength, they’d be about as useful against a dragon as a spoon in a knife fight.
I was supposed to be safehere, inside the Innerland Veils, at least safe from fucking dragons. Back in Ashvale, I only ever saw them from a distance, dark shapes gliding above the northern peaks. Lately they’ve started pushing closer to town, but I’ve only ever seen what’s left behind—ash, smoke, and whatever story survives it. Even Bren’s never faced one up close, he just volunteers to put out the fires.
But this? This is different. This is here.Now.
They’ve breached the Innerlands.
Actuallybreachedthem.
The Veils were supposed to hold. They’ve held for centuries, protecting their precious Realms. Their gleaming Citadel, their people.
