“Thorne,” I whispered.
Maddie and Thorne faced the others, the shadow dragon rising behind them like a guardian of ash and flame.
Lacey gave a sharp cry and darted forward. Maddie caught her mid-step, crushing her into her arms with a sob.
Tears streaked her face as she pressed frantic kisses to Lacey’s cheeks.
Slade didn’t move. He didn’t speak.
His eyes were locked on Thorne like a wolf waiting for a signal to strike.
And Thorne—
Gods, Thorne.
He looked like a man dragged back from hell.
Worn. Hollow. Ashamed.
He stood beneath the dragon as if it might devour him, his hands clenched, his eyes closed. Like he was waiting for a blow to fall.
And maybe that was the plan.
But it wasn’t just a dragon.
It was her.
Elira.
She hovered in the air, shadow unfurling behind her like wings forged from starlight and fury.
Her body was cloaked in flickering shadowflame, eyes glowing with something vast.
Something ancient. Something wholly, terrifyingly hers.
I stepped forward, heart in my throat. She smiled when she saw me.
“My fire mage,” she whispered. “My metal wielder. My lion.”
I stepped forward, heart clenching. “Elle…”
“You’re here,” she breathed. “Finally—”
Then her knees buckled.
She didn’t scream. She didn’t call out. Her eyes just rolled back—and shefell.
Only she didn’t hit the ground.
Thorne caught her.
He was a blur—his arms wrapping around her before anyone else could move. He dropped to his knees with her in his arms, cradling her like something sacred. Like something he’d been waiting a lifetime to hold.
Slade was there.
His blade met Thorne’s throat with a hiss—steel to skin, no hesitation. His entire body was coiled, vibrating with barely leashed violence.
“Put her down,” he said, voice low and deadly. “Now.”
