Page 86 of Fated By Fire

He doesn’t know what he’s in for.

Malakai lunges, flames spewing from his maw. I tackle Elena sideways, shielding her with my body. Heat singes my back, but her hands press against my chest—and suddenly, the firecurves, arcing harmlessly around us. The flames lick the walls, scorching the stone.

She’s weaving the stone’s energy like a shield, her fingers trembling but precise. The Heartstone’s power buzzes in the air, a living thing, its rhythm echoing the beat of my heart.

“Get him close!” she shouts, her voice straining. “I can hold him!”

I nod. Trusting her is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.

Malakai charges, claws raking stone. Sparks fly as he drags them across the floor, his ungainly gait barely slowed by the missing leg. I meet him head-on, scales erupting across my fists. We collide, dragon-to-dragon, our roars shaking the vault. Behind me, Elena’s hands are raised, the Heartstone’s light spiraling into chains that glow like molten iron.

“Traitor!” Malakai spits, talons tearing my shoulder. Blood wells, hot and slick. “You’d side with humans over your own kind!”

“You’re no kin of mine,” I snarl, driving my knee into his gut. He staggers, but his laughter is relentless, manic.

Elena’s voice crescendos, the chains snapping forward with a sound like shattering glass. They wrap Malakai’s limbs, searing his scales where they touch. He thrashes, but she’s relentless, the stone’s power fueling her. The vault trembles, dust raining down as the building groans above us.

“Now, Caleb!”

My fist cracks his jaw. He stumbles, and Elena yanks the chains taut. Malakai collapses, his human form reasserting—broken, bleeding, but grinning. Blood drips from his split lip, pooling on the stone.

“This isn’t over.” His laugh rasps like steel wool. “The Syndicate’s already here. You thinkyoucontrol the story now? I do! I control all of you! This stone is not the only source of power I can tap into!”

Fuck, he’s insane.

Above us, the building shudders. Distant explosions rip through the air—Syndicate dragons breaching the perimeter. The sound of shattering glass and screams filters down from the lobby.

Malakai seizes the distraction. With a burst of stolen energy, he snaps free of Elena’s bonds and lunges for the exit. Within seconds, he vanishes into the smoke-choked tunnels.

“Stop him!” Lydia shouts, her scales glinting as she moves to pursue him.

But the Heartstone flickers, its power waning. Elena sags against me, sweat-drenched and trembling. Her fingers clutch my arm, her breath ragged.

“Let him go. He’s not… worth it.”

Malakai’s laugh echoes from the tunnels. “Enjoy your victory,dragonslayer. It won’t last long.”

Then he’s gone.

The silence is worse than the battle.

Elena’s breaths come shallow, her fingers knotted in my shirt. I press my forehead to hers, our shared warmth a fragile anchor.

“You’re okay. You’re here,” I breathe the words.

She nods, but her eyes are vacant, haunted. “The stone… it showed me things. My mother, Malakai… he’s hunted us for generations. He wanted her to—”

A roar splits the air.

Not Malakai. Not the Syndicate.

Dorian.

The sound is raw, feral, drenched in pain.

Elena pales, her grip tightening on mine. “Something’s wrong.”

We race upstairs, the stairwell choked with smoke. The lobby is a warzone—shattered glass crunches underfoot, and the acrid stench of burning plastic stings my throat. Syndicate dragons circle outside, their shadows blotting out the moon.

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