Snapping its wings open again, the creature spiraled upward. Air howled through its translucent membranes as it climbed, the insect whir swelling until the sky itself screamed.
Serenna didn’t think as she drew on the flame in her chest. Fire erupted from her palms, a concussive wave searing straight for the rider. But the creature darted to the left, a wave of scorched air rolling harmlessly through its wake.
It appeared nearly on top of her, eyes like monstrous mirrors, wings flashing like glass knives. A shriek split her skull as it passed, close enough for the gale to tear at her braid and buffet her wings.
Light rippled, the shimmer resolving into another razorwing.
Then another.
Dozens, the sky humming with the swarm’s rising drone.
Vesryn’s voice cracked through her mind, the telepathic sending urgent and commanding.“Serenna! We’re getting out of here!”
She banked hard, wings catching uneven air as she turned to find him—too slow. Something slammed into her side.
Vesryn’s shoulder hit hers as his arm locked around her waist, wings flaring to steady them both.
Essence ignited. The sky split open, an oval of gaping darkness.
Vesryn fought to keep their wings from tangling as he dragged her toward the portal. He flung a surge of force downward. Blue cords speared through the air, snaring Fenn streaking below.
Fenn’s curse was swallowed by wind as the tendrils hooked him, wrenching him upward. The horde closed in—wings, shrieks, and the crush of Essence converging from every direction.
Vesryn hauled hard on the magic and hurled Fenn through the rift first, Essence snapping free the instant he vanished.
Serenna clutched at the prince’s armor as his grip tightened. And then he dove.
The portal consumed them, the world compressing to a single heartbeat before silence claimed the sky.
CHAPTER 26
LYKOR
Asharyn’s lake glared bright beneath the afternoon light, a mirror of ruthless blue. Dust scuffed with every step as Lykor strode toward the shade cloth pitched over the pier, where the factions would meet. The canvas snapped in the wind, a thin veil of order stretched over what would undoubtedly be an uneasy gathering.
As if they could pretend unity might be forged from the wreckage Galaeryn left behind. Sit and feign consensus, knowing ink and oaths would never be enough to build anything worth surviving.
A night had passed since he’d grudgingly portaled Daeryn’s band of rabble to the city, and already the promise of an alliance felt too clean. Too quick. Like peace conjured from smoke, not cost, doomed to vanish before it had even taken shape.
When Kaedryn had realized that Jassyn had gathered a force of over fifty children of earth and starlight, the claws on her wings had twitched so violently that Lykor had half expected her to launch into the sky.
The druids hadn’t merely stared.
They bowed. Scraped. Groveled in panicked reverence.
Guildmasters had scrambled to house them—opening estates, carving out quarters for this nameless force with too much myth in their bones. And through it all, Jassyn had stood at the center, as if he’d already delivered the druids’ salvation.
Prophecies and omens meant nothing to Lykor. Or the fact that they’d doubled the number of those who could wield Essence and earth. He believed in pattern and consequence. And he saw the pattern in how every eye lingered too long on Jassyn, the consequence of them already seeing him as a symbol.
“THIS IS GOING TO BE A FUCKING DISASTER,”Lykor muttered to Aesar.
“What could possibly go wrong?”Aesar said, lounging in his library in their mindspace.“Especially with you there, keeping the peace.”
Lykor ignored the jab.“I DON’T TRUST DAERYN. OR THAT BHREENA.”
Aesar swung a leg over the couch arm.“You don’t trust anyone except the male beside you. So nothing new there.”
Lykor scowled but didn’t argue. No point.
