“They will be dead before sunrise,”Calryx growls.“The Warlord will track them. The others will hunt them down. But if you bleed out before we reach the ground—”Her wings tighten beneath me, her voice edged with something dangerously close to fear.“Not even I can save you.”
A chill races through me because I know she’s right. Even now, my vision swims at the edges. My breath comes too fast, too shallow. The heat from my magics is pressing against my skin like a fever, my body struggling to keep up. If I keep pushing, I will collapse.
And if I fall now—I won’t survive it.
“Damn it!”I gasp. A ferocious heat rises in my chest, a storm of wrath and defiance, burning through the pain. This isn’t how it ends. I see them. My village, the flames, my parents—gone before I could stop it. Not again. Not this time.
“I’m not done yet!”I snarl, fire surging through my veins, my fingers curling into fists as if I can force my body to obey.
“But your body is. We will fight another day, Virelya.”
Reality doesn’t slam—it carves. One truth at a time. I’m breaking.
I press a shaking hand against my ribs. Wet. Warm. Too much. My pulse roars, louder than the wind, drowning out thought. Calryx feels my hesitation, the way I finally start to sag against her neck.
“You are my rider.”Her voice softens, but her authority does not.“And I will not let you die here.”
A wraith shrieks behind us, its claws slicing through the air in a final, desperate strike. Calryx doesn’t hesitate. Her tail whips around with lethal precision, the impact snapping bone, crushing shadow. The creature crumples mid-flight, dissolving into nothing.
One more down. But not all of them. Three still remain—circling, watching. Waiting. But my vision blurs at the edges, the world tilting as blood continues to seep from my wound. I hate this. The weakness. The helplessness. All this power and I still have to run.
But if I don’t—Calryx will lose me.
I exhale sharply, my voice raw, bitter.“Fine. Get us out of here.”
Calryx doesn’t warn me. She doesn’t have to. I feel it. The sharp focus in her mind. The sheer, unwavering intent. Her wings snap tight against her body—then she dives. Hard. The wind roars past us, deafening, whipping against my face, tearing at my clothes. My stomach lurches as we plummet, the world blurring in a rush of motion. But I don’t fall. Her magics hold me firm, unyielding.
All I can do is brace as the sky hurtles past.
The wraiths shriek in fury, diving after us, their skeletal wings slicing through the air. But we are faster. The treetops rush up to meet us—too fast, too close—then at the last possible second, Calryx snaps her wings open. The sudden burst of speed sends us rocketing forward, the force slamming me back against her neck.
The wraiths dive after us, screeching, relentless. But they’re too slow. Calryx’s speed devours the distance, leaving them as nothing more than fading shadows in the sky. We are gone. And just before the pain drags me under, before the darkness claims me, regret rises—sharp and suffocating. I should’ve ended them. Should’ve stayed.
THANE
The clang of steel rings through the training grounds as Rian’s sword crashes against mine, the force of the blow vibrating up my arms.
I parry swiftly, shifting into the attack, forcing him back. Jarek lunges from the side. I twist, dodging his blade by inches, then slam my forearm into his ribs, sending him stumbling.
Jarek curses. “You hit like a damn warhammer, Caelum.”
“Then block better,” I snap, my grip tightening on my sword as Rian circles again.
Sparring has been relentless today—not because I need the training, but because I need the distraction. If I’m not fighting, not moving, my mind keeps circling back to things I shouldn’t be thinking about.
To her.
To the way her body arched into mine, the sounds she made when she came apart beneath me. To the way her magics surged when she came.
Raw. Electric. Wrapping around us like they were their own being.
I should be thinking about the uptick in raids at Lord Toren’s Hale’s region; or the recent news the Spymaster shared with Rowena.
Instead, all I can think about is how she gasped when I moved inside her. The way she pressed her forehead to mine when she was too overwhelmed to speak. The way she felt—soft, strong, burning, everything.
When I showed up for sparring with my brothers, they knew instantly. Jarek whooped and clapped me on the back, telling me it’s about godsdamn time.
Rian just braced my neck with his massive hand, pulled me close, and rested his brow on mine for a moment. This is what Water Clan do when they acknowledge your good fortune.
