A deep, violent instinct awakens within me.
I don’t know their names.
Her trembling and their possessive stares are reason enough.
My wings unfurl.
Fire roars from my throat in a white-hot torrent that forces them apart. The bear staggers back, cursing, fur already rippling across his shoulders. The wolf drops low, teeth bared, eyes bright with delighted cruelty.
“Careful,” the wolf taunts. “You’ll scorch what’s left ofher.”
The bear cracks his neck. “Doesn’t matter,” he growls. “We’ll take her back in pieces if we have to.” He shifts fully, towering, grotesque, his power thick and brutal. Aura’s voice cuts through the noise.
Rage overwhelms my senses.
He lunges.
I intercept him mid-air, claws striking his chest with enough force to dent the ground. Bones break and blood sprays. He howls and lunges for my throat, but I shift fully, no longer holding back.
The wolf attacks from the side, claws tearing the ground. Ronyn intercepts him, snarling as scarlet flame meets brute force. They collide in a clash of scale and fur.
The bear tries to scramble free beneath me.
Fire floods my throat and into his chest at point-blank range. His laugh turns into a scream that cuts off in a wet, final choke. When I release him, there’s nothing left in his eyes but ash.
Across the clearing, the wolf roars in anger and grief, attacking Ronyn wildly. He is strong, but not a dragon.
Darial descends from above, golden fire sweeping across the tents. Canvas and flesh ignite in the blaze.
Ronyn is a whirlwind of anger, a blur of scarlet scales and snapping claws. He destroys the ground, his teeth and fury ripping apart anything that comes close.
I let go of a river of fire.
Flesh rips, screams echo, and fire falls.
Aura clutches her daughter tightly, her eyes wide and streaming with tears. Her runes glow in gold, silver, and scarlet, illuminating her skin.
Even as I fight, the air vibrates.
Power hums. Magic rises.
I turn to find Aura glowing. Her hair lifts as if in a current, and wind swirls around her, sending leaves and dirt into spirals.
How is this possible? Her magic was contained, yet it now escapes.
No!I shout internally. Aura, do not—
She steps forward, lifting her hand, and a pulse of raw magic explodes from her body, throwing back wolves mid-leap. The earth buckles beneath its force. Wolves are tossed into the air like ragdolls. Tents collapse in. Bodies are flung backward as though struck by a battering ram.
The child doesn’t cry. She’s wrapped in magic and protected by a glowing cocoon of safety.
I sense it: Aura’s power is uncontrolled, driven by the desperation, love, and fear within our human mate.
I land in front of her, trying to get closer with a roar that shakes the canopy.
But her magic is unrelenting.
It sweeps through the clearing like a storm, flattening wolves and bears. Her eyes are as gray as winter, and lightning flickers above, reflecting the runes on her skin. She is powerful.
