Elora
Viliam crouched protectively in front of her, his body tense and ready to strike again. A soft whimper escaped Elora’s lips, this time one of relief. She had believed he was gone, that he had left her to face Thorn’s wrath alone.
Yet here he was, defying fate.
Thorn staggered, groaning as he rosewith the grit and dust that clung to his jacket and slacks,though he made no move to brush it away.
His face contorted with rage, his expression a mask of seething fury. When his gaze fell upon the nightglider, it was as though the darkness itself thickened around him, his eyes narrowing with a hatred deep and unfathomable, a fierce longing for reckoning.
Elora scrambled to her feet, her breath still coming in sharp, ragged bursts as she backed away from the confrontation unfolding before her.
Thorn placed a pendant dangling from a thin chain around his neck and a cuff over the upper helix of his ear, each one glowing faintly with an ominous power.
She didn’t know what each one did, but the magic that radiated from them was unmistakable. Whatever advantage Viliam had, Thorn was determined to even the playing field.
“You had your chance to leave, beast,” he taunted. “Why would you stay? To protect thisworthlessgirl?”
Viliam didn’t react. His golden eyes remained fixed on Thorn, his muscles taut, his wings slightly flared, ready to strike. A low, dangerous growl rumbled from his throat.
Thorn’s eyes glinted with dark amusement as he advanced toward Viliam. “Fine, then. If you want to stay by her side so badly, so be it,” he spat. “I’ll chain you both up. And you can watch every second of the merciless torture I put her through.”
Without warning, Viliam lunged.
He was a blur of motion, silent, deadly, his midnight wings slicing through the air.
He aimed straight for Thorn’s throat, claws extended and teeth bared.
Elora’s thoughts whirled, a flicker of hope rising unbidden.Maybe Viliam can end this before Thorn can react.
But Thorn moved faster than Elora had ever seen. His reflexes, amplified by the enchanted jewelry, allowed him to sidestep Viliam’s deadly strike with terrifying ease.
Viliam soared past him, landing with a thud in the sand, his claws carving deep furrows as he turned to face Thorn again.
Thorn didn’t give him a moment to recover.
He charged.
Electricity crackling between his fingers.
Viliam leaped back, avoiding the electrified touch, but just barely.
Grains of sand scattered in sharp bursts under Thorn’s feet as he advanced, his movements unnervingly quick and far more agile than Elora had ever thought possible.
It was like watching two predators circle each other, looking for an opening to strike.
Viliam lunged again, his claws slashing toward Thorn’s chest.
This time, they connected.
Fabric tore.
But not flesh.
He should have been bleeding profusely, but he wasn’t.
Elora’s stomach sank.A pendant of Ironhide.
Thorn grinned wickedly, his confidence growing with each failed attack. He was untouchable.
