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Serenna watched in horror as he fell, vanishing under the ice.

CHAPTER 37

JASSYN

Jassyn’s heart vaulted into his throat as a void opened beneath him—an endless drop yanking him down. The ground fractured, ice breaking away as he plunged into the abyss.

He tumbled through layer after layer of splintering sheets, his shield flickering, fueled briefly by mind-numbing fright until Essence fled entirely. Air screamed past his ears as his fingers scraped uselessly at the ice, desperate for purchase where there was none.

A stinging slash raked Jassyn’s cheek, but the pain was drowned beneath a flood of panic. His breath came in ragged bursts, pulse thrashing in his ears.

Above, the beast roared, a deafening claim over the surface he’d been flung from.

Body pitching forward, the wind ripped tears from his eyes. This weightless rush of air was too familiar. Falling from the sky when Vesryn had shoved him off a dracovae. The same helpless descent. The ground rushing up to meet him. The inevitable impact looming below.

But this time, he couldn’t see the bottom—only a blinding swirl of broken ice and a choking flurry of snow. Terrordetonated in his chest as the pit buried him in a shattered grave with no end in sight.

A metallic squeal cleaved through the chaos. Steel fingers clamped around his arm, a crushing grip biting through his cloak and leathers.

Darkness swallowed him, his vision spinning as the world dissolved, twisted, and folded. The brutal yank wrenched his shoulder, nearly dislocating it as the force tore him from free fall.

With a jarring lurch, the void buckled and the world slammed back into focus. His head snapped sideways, joints in his arm straining in protest as pain shot through them.

Chips of ice exploded around him as he crashed onto his back, a jagged ledge breaking his fall. Impossibly high above, light spilled through the narrow breach that marked the frozen lake’s surface.

“Hold on!” Lykor snarled, his gauntlet tightening around Jassyn’s arm.

Jassyn barely registered the command, grappling with sheer bewilderment that Lykor had followed him into the chasm.

Lykor, who’d spent all week pretending he didn’t exist. Not a glance, not a single word spoken to him since Vaelyn’s harbor. And if Lykor did have something to say, he funneled every curt order through Fenn as though speaking to Jassyn was beneath him.

And yet, here Lykor was, snatching him from the maw of death.

Jassyn didn’t have time to process the whirlwind of shock before an invisible hook yanked at his insides—Lykor hurtling them upward in another warp.

Then another.

Each jump hit Jassyn harder, the gut-wrenching force ripping him apart from the inside out.

Without warning, blinding light exploded into his vision.

They smashed into the ground—blessed, unbroken ground. The impact rattled Jassyn’s teeth, knocking the air from his lungs. His body’s frenzied energy ricocheted through him, leaving his chest heaving and limbs trembling, pinned to the earth by the aftershock.

Lykor didn’t pause.

Of course he didn’t.

Before Jassyn could even think about standing, Lykor was already yanking him up. Jassyn’s head swam but there was no time to catch his breath—Lykor shoved him hard through a waiting portal.

Jassyn stumbled through the rift, the world whirling too fast to keep his balance. His stomach lurched, a rush of bile rising in his throat. Before he could stop it, he doubled over and retched.

Knees buckling, he was barely aware of the hands that halted his collapse. Fenn’s steady grip anchored him on one side, while Serenna’s support held him on the other.

Limbs shaking uncontrollably, shivers wracked Jassyn’s body, cold sweat drenching his skin. The crushing nausea seemed endless, every heave hollowing him out until he could do nothing but gasp for air.

Serenna gently brushed his curls away from his face while Fenn rubbed his back in soothing, rhythmic circles, blaming the number of warps he must’ve endured.

Bitter air burned Jassyn’s lungs and he shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut, desperate to concentrate on something—anything—to stop the world from spinning.