Nerissa sighed. “It’s time.”
Fear grabbed hold of me. I hated the feeling instantly. Fear made people irrational. Fear made them hesitate. The last time I had hesitated where Wren was concerned, people had gotten hurt.
We did not have time to waste gathering papers. The plans would not matter if the island destabilized before we could implement them. No amount of planning or reading could solve this. We would simply have to act.
The ground trembled again, stronger.
The shift passed through the clearing in a visible ripple. Several drakens staggered, adjusting their footing. A low murmur spread, unease replacing confrontation as attention shifted downward.
A small warble of distress was audible over the crowd. This time, it was Wren. Kieran, Benedict and I moved to her immediately. She was not standing as she normally did in moments of tension: centered, steady, commanding.
One hand pressed low against her stomach, the other gripped Benedict’s arm with enough force that I could see the strain in her fingers. Her posture had tightened, her breathing shallow in a way that immediately redirected my focus.
This was not simply discomfort–this was strain.
A cold certainty slid through me. Something was wrong beyond the tremors. Wren was trying too hard to remain standing, trying too hard to look unaffected.
“Ronan,” Benedict said as I approached, his voice clipped. “You felt it?”
“Yes,” I replied. “It’s not isolated. The tremors are increasing in frequency. If the pattern holds?—”
Another tremor cut through the ground, sharper this time. Wren inhaled sharply, her body folding slightly forward before she caught herself.
“What are you feeling?” I asked, shifting my attention fully to her.
Her eyes flicked to mine, something strained and uncertain behind them. “Pressure,” she said. “Heat. It’s … wrong.”
Wrong.The word echoed unpleasantly in my mind. The ritual relied on balance, stability, and controlled flow. There was nothing stable about a laboring draken female in the middle of a ward collapse.
Nerissa moved then, stepping forward with a decisiveness that cut through the lingering tension of the clearing. The blood-marks along her arms were already active, faint lines of gold tracing beneath her skin.
“We don’t have time to debate this anymore.” Her gaze moved briefly to the volcano, then back to us. “Now. It has to be donenow.”
There was no hesitation in her voice. No room for argument. I nodded once, the conclusion making sense.
“The anchor points are ready,” I said. “But we need the central conduit?—”
“I know,” Nerissa cut in. Her gaze shifted. Not to Benedict, not to me, but to Veskor.
The shift in the clearing was immediate.
Every head turned toward him.
Nerissa did not soften the moment. She stepped directly toward him, closing the distance that no one else had been willing to cross.
“I need you,” she said plainly.
Veskor blinked, clearly not expecting the request. “What?”
“I know you don’t have any experience with bloodmagick, but you’ve navigated broken wards. You’ve survived where others wouldn’t.” Her voice did not waver. “You’re the best candidate we have. And to be honest, the only oneexpendable.” She turned to Wren, already anticipating the blowout. “You are in active labor. You can no longer be the anchor.”
The silence that followed was not disbelief. It was shock.
Wren’s reaction was immediate. “No.” The word came out sharp, almost reflexive. “That position is the most dangerous,” Wren continued, her voice tightening as she stepped forward. “If something goes wrong?—”
“It will,” Nerissa said calmly.
Wren faltered. “That’s exactly why he shouldn’t?—”
