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Kylian’s head turns at once.

So does mine.

At first, I see only the market stall holders, the narrow road, the building roofs, the gray sky pressing low above the island.

Then a shadow crosses the window.

The truck’s brakes shriek as Eagan slams his foot down, and the whole vehicle lurches so violently that Kylian throws an arm across me to keep me from pitching forward.

Above us, a dragon cuts through the sky.

Its wings stretch wide over the road, black against the clouds, and fire spills from its open jaws before I can even scream, pouring down over the edge of town and striking the upper floor of a stone building with enough force to blow out every window.

The building erupts.

Flames roar up the walls.

People scream.

The sound hits me harder than the blast.

Eagan is already out of the truck.

Kylian follows, dragging me with him despite the hand he keeps at my waist. “Stay behind me,” he orders.

I look at the main street toward the docks, at the people running from burning doorways, at the dragon wheeling back through the smoke, at another shadow moving beyond the rooftops, then another.

“No,” I say.

His face snaps toward mine. “Alessia.”

A horn bellows from the harbor, deep and violent, and when I look toward the docks, I see ships where there should not be ships, their dark shapes cutting through the water with dragon crests and lycan banners and sails marked by kingdoms that should be gathered for council, not war.

The annual meeting was a trap.

The road ahead explodes into bodies and panic, guards rushing toward town, civilians fleeing toward the fields, children crying as people drag them from the path of falling sparks, and Kylian’s voice cuts through it all.

“Eagan, get Alessia to safety.”

“No,” I snap, already moving toward the burning building.

Kylian catches my arm. “If they are here to start war, they’re starting it for you.”

“Then they can find me protecting my people. This place used to be the Arcanum’s home, my home, Kylian.”

His expression twists with fury, but before he can answer, something massive slams into him from the side.

A lycan.

Not a man, a towering beast of muscle, fur, and teeth, its claws tearing across Kylian’s coat as it drives him into the side of the truck hard enough to dent the metal.

“Kylian,” I scream.

He catches the lycan by the throat before it can strike again, his fangs flashing as he twists beneath its weight and throws it across the road into a broken stone wall.

More lycans surge from the smoke, along with guards who wear the elvin crest.

Three of them.