“Start the evacuation,” Lykor barked.
Everyone straightened. Kal’s head snapped toward him, but before anyone could flap their tongues or voice their objections, Lykor cut them down.
“Rimeclaw is flying for the Maw. I’m going in. If we fall there, he’ll come for the city next. Move the civilians. Now.”
Mara’s eyes widened, just enough to betray a flicker of fear before discipline smothered it. She nodded, opened a portal, and vanished through it. She and Thalaesyn would scatter thecivilians into the cavern network the wraith had scouted days earlier north of the Bramblemaw den.
That part would hold. They didn’t need him.
And he was still defending the city like Jassyn had ordered. This wasn’t disobedience, it wasintervention. Exactly what had been asked of him.
That had to count for something.
Lykor had no intention of playing cave shepherd or crawling through stone while the king’s forces sundered the realms. Not when Jassyn stood in the Maw with death racing toward him.
Feeling the minutes bleeding away, Lykor’s jaw clenched. His gaze slid past Zaeryn and fixed on Kal. “Status.”
Kal crossed his arms, but Zaeryn answered first.
“That swarm of razorwings appeared,” she said, slicing a hand at the illusion map to mark their flight path. “They’re escorting the invading ships across the Blackreach. The rangers are engaging, but the summit won’t hold without reinforcements.”
Lykor’s lip curled, but he didn’t acknowledge her. “They confirmed Skylash’s location?”
Kal dragged his teeth over a lip ring. “Cinderax sent word that she lies within that tallest peak. Serenna and Jassyn are working their way down to free her.”
“Pull every fighter we have,” Lykor ordered. “Everyone goes into the Maw.”
Kal gave a curt nod, shifting into wings and scales. He opened a portal and disappeared through it.
Lykor pivoted toward the exit, urgency burning through him like a lit fuse.
“Ask if there’s news on my brother,”Aesar hissed before Lykor stepped out.
“SHE WOULD HAVE SAID SOMETHING,”Lykor muttered.
His stride hitched, legs locking mid-step as Aesar seized control.
Lykor gritted his fangs, cursing under his breath as Aesar drew them to a halt. He didn’t turn, just threw the words over his shoulder like a knife.
“The prince?”
“He’s leading the strike against the fleet,” the flight captain reported. “I’m due back to take command of the razorwing assault, but…” She exhaled sharply. “We’re stretched too thin. It’s going to be a bloodbath when Rimeclaw shows up.”
Lykor’s lungs strained beneath the pressure coiling in his chest. Jassyn remained the priority, but if Lykor didn’t risk confronting Rimeclaw, the dragon might tear the Maw apart.
Mercy had bought them this disaster. He’d spared the dragon, and that folly had left Rimeclaw weaponized under Galaeryn instead. That blood-debt belonged to Lykor now. The only thing left was to end the beast. Or stall him long enough for Skylash to be freed.
Whatever it fucking took.
“Take Trella,”Aesar urged.“She can join the fight.”
“NO,”Lykor growled.“I CAN’T SHIELD HER FROM LIGHTNING,LET ALONE A FULL ASSAULT.”
As if she’d heard the exchange, Trella screeched outside and clawed trenches into the dirt. Lykor didn’t need a translation. Somehow that beastknew. And if he tried to leave her behind, she’d level this whole outpost.
“There is a way, you know.”Aesar clicked his tongue, waiting for Lykor to admit it first.“If we’re portaling in, we shouldn’t go alone.”
Lykor grimaced, bile stinging the back of his throat as he turned to Zaeryn. He hated needing her. Loathed that he couldn’t defend himself.
