Page 112 of Wings of Shadow
The roof rips apart beneath my talons. Reinforced beams snap like twigs under the force of my attack. Rubble and dust rain down into the room below—and through it all, I see her.
Clarissa.
Disheveled. Pale. Eyes wide in shock.
But alive.
Her arms lift weakly, reaching for me through the falling ash. “Kai!”
Her voice spears straight through me—raw, hoarse. My name on her lips is a prayer and a lifeline.
I land in the debris and shift instantly—my dragon form folding into my human shape in a burst of searing heat. Flesh replaces scales, but my obsidian wings remain, sheltering her from the world as I fall to my knees beside her.
She’s crumpled in the corner, bruises blooming along her jaw, hair tangled. I pull her into my arms, holding her close. She’s warm. Real. Breathing. The feel of her against my chest nearly brings me to tears.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper, my voice breaking, “You’re safe now. I’m taking you home.”
Looking at her, limp but alive, I understand the truth that remade me: I was born in darkness, raised in shadow, forged in fire—but she, she taught me how to fly.
I kiss her forehead, her hair, her temple—over and over, desperately soaking in the essence of her. The bond thrums between us, faint but unbroken.
Outside, the compound quakes again—an explosion echoes nearby. Nikolaas roars in the distance, shaking the earth. I sense the heat of his rampage climbing like a fever. We’re not out of danger yet.
We need to move.
I cradle her face, gently, forcing her to meet my eyes. “Clarissa, do you trust me?”
She nods without hesitation, her voice rough but clear. “Always.”
With that, I shift again, careful to keep her close, holding her against me as I take flight.
We burst from the building, Clarissa secure in my grasp. She curls against me instinctively, her heartbeat steady against my chest. Nikolaas soars ahead, a golden inferno against the dark sky that turns the treeline into molten ruin. His wings slice through the smoke, fire spilling from his jaws in blinding arcs. He’s not targeting strategic positions anymore. He’s cleansing the entire forest of Mahindra taint.
Below, the compound is nothing but a charred ruin.
I grit my teeth, flaring my wings as we rise higher. “Enough,” I snap, projecting my thoughts to Nikolaas. “They’re gone. Pull back.”
But he doesn’t answer. Or won’t. His dragon is in full berserker mode now, leaving a path of devastation in its wake—charred earth, shattered towers, smoke coiling skyward in mourning spirals. The gold in his scales still glows with anger.
I let out a sharp cry—a burst of draconic sound only he can hear. Nikolaas finally notices. He jerks in mid-air, wheeling to my side, eyes burning with residual fury.
“Enough,” I growl again, my voice a thunderclap in the wind as I lock eyes with Nikolaas across the rising thermal. “She’s safe. It’s done.”
For a breathless instant, his wings falter mid-beat. Then, slowly, reluctantly, he begins to ascend beside me—his fire dimming, though not extinguished. He’s not ready to stand down. Not fully.
And neither am I when I see him.
Viktor Mahindra.
Amid the smoldering wreckage of his stronghold, he stands—blood streaking his temple, flanked by two wounded men. They’re cloaked in enchantments, flickering like torn veils in the smoke. His stance is defiant.
He’s daring us to finish what we started.
My dragon stirs inside me, wings snapping wider. Fire builds in my chest, a vow. One blast, it whispers. One well-placed strike and we could end him. End this. Burn the rot from its root.
But then I feel her.
Clarissa stirs faintly in my hold, her fingers curling against my scales like a whisper. Her heartbeat flutters—unsteady but strong.
