Yazmine.
“We heard you,” Enya said, her hair whipping in the wind. “Your call traveled the whole island.”
“And you shouldn’t be alone,” Mara added, already stepping forward, fire curling off her hands. “We remember the old songs. We will sing them again, with you.”
WHUMP.
My heart soared as Benedict and Kieran slammed into the sand between us and the vampyres.
“We will stand guard, but don’t let us stop you,” Kieran said, grinning at us like it was his name day.
Yazmine bared her fangs. “Let’s end them. Just like the old days.”
Together, four female drakens lifted their voices on Lyoness for the first time in a thousand years.
Our harmonized magick struck the vampyres like a tidal wave. They shrieked. They broke. They fell back, allowingthe seawitches to grab them and snap necks, dragging them down to their watery graves.
A rush of draken males descended on the shoreline around us, but they stayed back, sharply watching as female drakens defended the island for the first time in a millennium.
Just like the old days, indeed.
The vampyres who retreated back into the water were dragged beneath the waves by the seawitches, who rose from the surf like crimson-haired spirits of vengeance, snapping necks left and right like they were popping dandelions off their stems.
A final surge of vampyres tried to smash through the wall of magick, but they couldn’t break our voices. Enya and Mara went in with claws and swords to join the fun, cutting them down as Yazmine and I kept them immobile through our song. Enya’s claws flashed silver as she decapitated the last one, panting hard but with a shit-eating grin on her face.
When the very last corpse slipped beneath the sea, the beach fell silent except for our panting breaths.
I sagged forward, catching myself with my hands. Kieran rushed forward but Enya threw out a hand, holding him back. I could feel Benedict twitching with the need to sniff me.
“Wren?” Enya dropped beside me instantly.
“I—I just need a second. The baby—” I panted.
A sharp, hard pain lanced across my abdomen.
Too sharp.
Too soon.
My breath hitched. “No—no, not now. It’s too early?—”
Mara was already lifting me with gentle, practiced strength. “It’s notthatearly. Let us get you settled, and see what happens.”
“I’m not—” My voice cracked on another wave of pain.
Yazmine pressed her ear to my stomach and hissed. “Her body’s starting. We need to move.”
“But my mates—they’re?—”
“They’re here,” Enya promised fiercely. “But right now, we’ve got you. Everything is fine.”
“No! Where is Ronan?” I asked, but no one answered. The three females formed a protective triangle around me, wings spread wide, shielding me from the sight of seawitches finishing off the bodies in the surf.
They half-carried, half-supported me toward the jungle path.
“Enya, let me—” Benedict protested.
“No, this is female work.” Enya pushed him back politely, but Mara was less nice, hissing at him to back away. My legs buckled twice. Each time, Mara simply adjusted her hold and kept moving.
