Closer now.
So close that when he swept the ridge of Rimeclaw’s spine, the dragon’s exhale seared the frost clean from his scales. Held in the stillness between gust and gale, Lykor rode the chaos in the leviathan’s wake. He skimmed the curve of his skull before dropping past the dragon’s snout.
Twisting midair, Lykor banked hard until the wind screamed along the membranes of his wings. He aligned himself squarely in Rimeclaw’s path, forcing the dragon’s gaze.
Crystalline eyes locked onto him, depthless as the void between stars. Fangs gnashed in a glacial crack as he thundered past, the roar that followed rupturing the sky. His voice echoed next, bludgeoning through Lykor’s mind.
“Flee, whelp. The chains still bind.
I’ll rip your wings and freeze you blind.”
Lykor didn’t answer. He only bared his teeth to the wind and veered from the dragon’s shadow, away from the summit where Jassyn stood—ifhe still stood—within the mountain’s heart.
Diving low across the lake, Lykor slammed into the shore. Rocks sprayed beneath his boots, stones tumbling into the black water. He lifted a hand, his breath spilling in a plume of white.
Ice answered, racing outward from his feet, seizing the shallows in a sweeping arc. Frost spread across half the Blackreach, freezing the lake toward the horizon. An invitation and a challenge, a place for the dragon to land. If Rimeclaw still possessed the will to choose it.
Overhead, the clouds bruised to black, lightning writhing in their depths. Rimeclaw wheeled through the storm, wingsscything the air. Shards of ice peeled from his hide, spiraling downward like an avalanche in slow descent.
As Lykor waited, water and ice braided restlessly around his fists. He didn’t move as the air froze around him, snow sheeting sideways in the dragon’s approach.
When Rimeclaw landed, the earth heaved. His talons punched into the frozen lake, the impact reverberating through the ice. The shockwave cracked the air, deep and shuddering, an earthquake rolling through the bones of the world.
The ice shrieked and fissures veined outward, racing toward Lykor like faultlines ready to rupture. Power bled from the dragon, freezing the Blackreach from surface to silt, frost crawling beneath the ice.
Time held its breath as all sound died.
Then Rimeclaw lowered his massive head, eyes gleaming like shards carved from the Heart of Stars. His exhaled chuff tore past Lykor in a blast of heat, frost steaming from his hide.
“This wound is yours,”the dragon hissed, scorn scraping inside Lykor’s skull.“The tyrant plucks at my bones, and my claws obey. I begged you for peace so I would not become what he’s made me release.”
“You think I should end you now?” Lykor’s fingers twitched as frost crawled along his arms. “One merciful stroke to sever the leash? That’s not the fucking bargain we made.”
“Easy,”Aesar urged.“We’re not here to provoke him.”
Rimeclaw bared his fangs.“And if I slay everyone here? Freeze every scalebound to defend a fleet I never chose to protect?”
“You haven’t yet,” Lykor bit out.
He’d spared the dragon once out of mercy. Now mercy felt like a blade turned inward. This was the knife’s edge—belief balanced against ruin, restraint against war. He could end it now, before the slaughter began. But that would be Galaeryn’svictory, turning Lykor into the executioner of the very beast he’d sworn to free.
“I won’t cut your throat while you’re still shackled,” he growled. “You’ll get your choice, dragon. But only when your voice is your own again.”
“Your oath is ash.”Rimeclaw’s snarl split the air like breaking stone.“The tyrant breached my mind and knows Skylash is chained here. He bade me bring storm’s daughter, wrap my jaws around her thunder, and bear her across the sea like stolen spoils.”
His wings shuddered as frost bled to water, silver beads racing down his flanks.“Now I must unmake all who stand. Strike me down or blood will stain your hands.”
Before Lykor could draw breath to answer—or dread if Galaeryn knew of Cinderax—the sky convulsed.
Rimeclaw twisted with a growl as pressure plunged, a seismic rumble rising from the mountain’s heart. The column of sunfire unraveled, its glow devoured by the storm.
The summit detonated.
Lightning burst from the peak in every direction, a corona of sparks and crystal ripping the air apart. From the mountain’s shattered core, Skylash emerged.
Haloed in radiance, her sleek wings unfurled, membranes of deep amethyst stretching wide. Claiming the sky, she surged upward and climbed.
Sparks cascaded along her scales as she split the storm open, each beat of her wings cleaving the clouds. And when her jaws parted in another roar, lightning poured from her throat, feral and wild.
