Fishing boats pulled against their moorings as crews worked frantically to secure them. Lines snapped and re-tied. Engines roared as the larger trawlers made for deeper water where they might ride out the wave. The evacuation sirens had started twenty minutes ago, and Haven Shores’s residents were streaming away from the coastline in orderly lines—supernatural and human alike, shepherded by pack members and pride lions.
The sight of them—the community uniting—would have amazed Aero a month ago. Dragons didn’t do this. Didn’t work as teams, didn’t protect those weaker than themselves out of anything but obligation. But Haven Shores was different. Every species was represented in the evacuation effort, old territorial boundaries forgotten in the face of shared threat.
Theo’s voice carried over the wind, calm and commanding as he directed his wolves. The alpha had positioned himself at the main evacuation route, his steady presence keeping frightened civilians from panicking. Leo coordinated with Hux near the marina, ensuring no one got left behind—their lions forming a protective perimeter around the slower-moving families with children.
Beck stood at the harbor’s edge with Rosemary, both of them helping fishermen guide their smaller vessels to safety. Aero watched Beck’s hand find Rosemary’s between boats, watched her lean into him for just a moment before straightening back to work.
Two people choosing each other in the middle of a disaster. Fighting for something beyond survival. Something in his chest ached at the sight—recognition, perhaps. Understanding.
Cassia’s fingers tightened around his. She’d seen it too.
Overhead, a golden-red dragon circled—Delos, still not fully healed but refusing to stay grounded. His wing showed barely visible scarring where Nerissa’s attack had shreddedmembrane, but his flight was steady. He was providing aerial reconnaissance, tracking the approaching wave’s progress.
Massive,Delos called through their limited dragon communication—not telepathy, but a resonance between beasts of the same kind.Bigger than anything natural. Moving fast.
Aero’s jaw tightened. He could feel it—not just the pressure, but the shape of the thing Nerissa had built. Days of manipulated currents. Weeks of gathered force. All of it condensed into a wall of water taller than anything Haven Shores had ever faced.
The witches were scattered along the seawall, their magic weaving into the ancient wards carved into the breakwater’s foundation. Junie worked furiously, her chaos magic surprisingly useful for reinforcing failing defenses. Avine channeled energy from the Siren’s Rest’s protections. Narla stood apart, serenely calm, her owl familiar circling overhead.
Cassia stopped at the seawall’s highest point, her hair whipping in the wind. Aero moved to stand beside her—close enough that their shoulders brushed, close enough that he could feel her magic pulsing in time with his.
“There.” She pointed toward the horizon.
He saw it. A dark line against the dawn sky, growing larger with every passing second. The wave. Nerissa’s weapon. Weeks of hatred made manifest in water and force.
His dragon pressed against his skin, demanding release—the shift, the fight, the primal need to protect. He held the beast back. She needed them here, in this form, for this.
Cassia’s hand found his. Her fingers were cold, trembling slightly, but her grip was strong.
“In tandem.” The words came out barely above a whisper. “Your power, my precision. Like the flight.”
He nodded. They’d practiced this—combining their storm magic, learning how his raw force could amplify her control. Onthe cliffs, it had felt almost playful. Here, with death bearing down on them, it felt like the only thing that mattered.
The wave crested the horizon. Even from this distance, Aero could see the foam at its peak, the impossible height of it. Screams rose from somewhere in the town—people who’d stopped to look, who understood what they were seeing.
“Now,” Cassia breathed.
She raised her free hand, and the sky answered.
FORTY-ONE
AERO
Aero had worked magic for eight hundred years. He’d called storms across mountain ranges, summoned lightning to devastate armies, created weather systems that lasted for weeks. He knew power.
This was something else entirely.
When Cassia’s magic reached for his, he gave it everything—centuries of accumulated force, his dragon’s lightning, every scrap of atmospheric control he possessed. She took it and shaped it, her precision guiding his raw power like a conductor directing an orchestra.
He felt her mind touch his through their shared magic—not telepathy, but impressions.There. Push there. Hold. NOW.
Wind screamed across the harbor, slamming into the wave’s face with enough force to send spray flying a hundred feet into the air. Lightning cracked from the suddenly dark sky—his lightning, but aimed with her accuracy—superheating the water, creating pockets of steam and vacuum that disrupted the wave’s momentum.
Atmospheric pressure shifted, Cassia manipulating it with surgical accuracy, destabilizing the structure Nerissa had spent weeks building. The wave was an impressive feat of magic, but itwas also fragile—built on carefully balanced forces that could be disrupted by someone who understood them.
Cassia understood them. And with Aero’s power behind her, she had the strength to exploit every weakness.
The wave slowed.
