The dragon swung her head back and bellowed a screech.
“Get back!” Etrix yelled. He and Garot dove out of the way. Even Fanon looked panicked as he retreated several steps back. Ferrah lowered her head, but Cora didn’t wait to see what happened. Turning around, she kicked up her feet and ran as fast as she could.
The ground trembled behind her, and heat licked her ankles. A bright blaze flashed in her periphery—purple flames—but she forced herself faster. Faster.
She knew what she had to do. And now that she’d removed the collar, she could do it.
With a deep breath, she called the elements to her. Air in her lungs. Earth beneath her feet. Water in her blood. Fire chasing her steps. It wrapped around her, fueling her emotions. Fear. Terror. Worry. She sank into these feelings, affirmed their presence, their legitimacy.
The ground shook faster now, and another screech rang out behind her.
She closed her eyes and sought something lighter than fear. Something warmer than dread. Her thoughts immediately went to Teryn. A spike of worry surged through her, but she kept her thoughts on a softer path. A vision flashed in her mind’s eye, of her and Teryn’s kiss against the tree. Calm flooded her mind. Her heart. Her soul.
Yes.
That was where she could go.
She continued to run blindly, pumping her legs over the barren earth, trusting herself not to fall, and turned her thoughts over to Teryn. His lips on hers. His hands in her hair.
Her chest warmed. Her heart flitted.
She enveloped those emotions around her and visualized the tree under which they’d kissed. She saw its wide trunk, its bark, its bright green leaves. She saw the grass covering the cliff. Saw the wildflower meadow beneath it.
Every part of her felt like she was there.
Safe.
Home.
Heat scalded her back, but she ignored it, imagining it was sunlight blazing over the cliffside instead.
She sent a surge of magic into her feet…
And took a purpose-fueled step.
As her feet landed, the ground softened, the air shifted. She opened her eyes and flung out her hands, stumbling as she nearly collided with the tree she’d held in her mind’s eye. Night surrounded her, as did the scents of the familiar woods. She’d done it. She was here. A cry of relief escaped her throat, and she sank to the base of the trunk, arms curled around her knees as she caught her breath.
She sat like that for minutes on end. Sobs tore from her chest, erupting with the weight of her emotions, the return of her magic, the terror of what had just happened.
Once she could breathe easily again, she unhooked her arms from around her knees and rose to her feet. She brushed out the skirt of her robe, frowning at its singed hem. A tendril of dark hair caught her eye, and she saw it too had been singed. Only then did she note the faint smell of burning in the air. How much hair had she lost? Was the back of her robe intact?
She reached for the lock of hair but realized she still held the collar in one hand. With a glare, she shoved it into her robe pocket with far more force than necessary. Then, stepping toward the edge of the cliff and into the moonlight, she assessed the charred strand. She ran her fingers through her tangled ends, relieved to find most of her hair still there?—
Movement caught her eye from beneath the cliff. The moon illuminated the vast meadow below.
Cora bit her lip to smother her shout of alarm.
It wasn’t the tents that startled her. Not the makeshift camp that had invaded what she’d once considered her most favorite and sacred location.
It was the monster that emerged from the trees.
56
Athunderous roar reverberated through the night. It echoed through the tent, shattering the moment Mareleau and Larylis had been sharing. Sweetness had filled their embrace mere moments ago—mingling with the joy and terror that came with knowing they’d soon be parents—but now they both froze, tensing in each other’s arms.
“What was that?” Mareleau whispered.
“A bear, probably,” Larylis said, trying to appear composed. Though he’d gone on countless hunts with his brother growing up, he never fully understood its appeal. Hunting prey, delivering killing blows, hearing animalistic screams when a wound missed its mark and caused unnecessary pain…he’d hated all of it. The sound he’d just heard reminded him too much of those screams—an eerie, keening cry of pain.
