"Kieran," he breathes. "The Dragon of the Void."
The chaos mage beside him radiates wild, unstable power—energy that crackles like a storm barely contained. But there's something in his gaze when he looks at Kaia, something that makes the ancient thing inside me stir with both approval and warning.
Shadows cluster close to her, moving with military precision, far too organized for shadow constructs. There's something in their movements, in the way they orbit her, that echoes a kind of discipline I haven't seen in centuries. One directs the others like a commander. Another scribes strange symbols in the air—shadowy script, new and unknown, but deliberate. It feels like the beginning of a language born from darkness itself.
"The corruption's spreading fast," I say, pushing back centuries of memory. "We need to get her to the sanctuary."
"You have a sanctuary in this realm?" one of the berserker twins asks, flame wreathing his form while his brother watches with frost in his hair. Neither of which should be possible.
"I have many things in this realm." The corruption recoils from my touch, but not fast enough. Another shadow forms, this one carrying the essence of a healer I once knew. "Including ways to slow this poison."
The strange wisp that's been drifting through the corruption pauses near us, its touch leaving brief flares of cleansing light. Something about its power feels familiar, though I can't placewhy. It hovers near Kaia's head, almost like it's trying to comfort her.
"We need to move," Malrik says, and I notice he hasn't let go of her hand. The realization hits me like ice water, the possessive way he holds her, the tender concern in his silver eyes.
No. This cannot be.
Ancient instinct flares, fierce and territorial. She is mine. The thought rises unbidden, primal and absolute. The dragon within me stirs, threatening to shatter this human form I wear. I force it down, but the rage lingers, cold and sharp beneath my skin.
I gather her into my arms carefully, her wings folding naturally against my chest. The chaos mage moves closer, his face fierce. Something in his protective stance, the desperate worry in his eyes, triggers another wave of cold fury. His gaze lingers on her face with unmistakable devotion.
Two of them? The dragon rumbles beneath my skin, demanding retribution.
The twins flank us, their power humming just beneath their skin.
As we move through the corrupted landscape, something extraordinary happens. New shadows begin to form around her, pulling themselves from the very fabric of this realm. They coalesce slowly, each one distinct. More shadows find their way to her as we continue on, each one a soul I thought lost forever.
I hold her close and try not to think about the last time I saw her, or the night everything changed, when Solveig's desperate magic tore through time itself. The night I failed to protect them both. Solveig died for this future, and yet—watching Kaia fade beneath the same sky—I wonder if we were ever meant to win.
Not this time, I promise silently as another shadow joins her growing legion. This time will be different.
But the way Malrik and the chaos mage move in perfect sync beside me, their concern for her evident in every step, it makesmy blood run cold. They move like extensions of one another, both orbiting her even as she lies unconscious in my arms. It is more than friendship or loyalty. The looks they exchange, the way they position themselves, they both claim her in their own way.
The dragon's rage builds.Mine.The word pulses with each step.
The sanctuary can't come soon enough.
"Are we there yet?" the chaos mage groans, breaking the silence. "Because if we have to keep trekking through this nightmare wasteland much longer, I might start questioning my life choices."
I don't respond. His magic is wild, unpredictable, but his concern for Kaia is real. I can feel it in the way his energy shifts every time she makes the faintest sound.
"You already question your life choices," Malrik mutters, adjusting his grip on Kaia's hand. He hasn't let go of her since we started moving. The possessiveness of the gesture makes my jaw clench.
The chaos mage flashes a grin, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Fair point. But seriously, any glowing gates, magic doorways, dramatic beams of light ahead? Or are we just walking until our legs give out?"
"Not much farther," I say. The words carry more weight than just distance.
Malrik exhales, his silver eyes flicking toward me. "How bad has it gotten?"
I shift Kaia's weight, ensuring her wings remain tucked safely against her back. "Worse. The corruption spreads faster than it should. The wards hold, but they weaken every time I pull from Absentia."
Malrik nods grimly. "Same as before, then."
"Not exactly." I glance at the growing shadows forming around Kaia, following us like silent sentinels. "The souls are moving toward her. Not just fallen warriors—lost ones. That has to mean something."
The chaos mage scoffs. "Still waiting for someone to explain that one to me."
"It's complicated," Malrik says, his voice tight. "But if they're returning, it means she's more than just a Valkyrie."
