PROLOGUE
“When the world burns, child, you will not resist. You will kneel. You will give yourself to me freely.
And when you do, the last Thread of the Fifth Realm will seal. The flames will rise. All that you love will die.
He will die.
And it will all be because of you.”
CHAPTER ONE
TALEN’S POV
“She’s alive...” I repeat, easing closer. “Lyra, Ezzy is alive.”
But through the fear, she doesn’t hear me. Or if she does, she’s too far gone to believe it. Looking at her, something cold and vicious grips my chest at how pale she’s become, the kind of white that drains straight through to the bone.
With my hands raised, I take another step forward, but she scrabbles back, heels grinding into the dry dirt as she fights to put distance between us. Each frantic shift only pulls the ropes around her wrists and ankles tighter, dragging them over torn skin until fresh blood darkens the dust beneath her.
Pressure builds behind my ribs at the sight of it, at what they did to her. Then the smell hits next—metallic, familiar, hers—and the world narrows. Heat flares through my veins as Cal rises beneath my skin, locking every muscle with a protective need that feels dangerously too close to possession.
“We need to move,” Luc warns, his boots grinding over the dry earth as he steps up beside me.
“No shit,” I snap back, turning to face him. It’s my voice, but the fury behind it is all Cal.
Luc doesn’t even bother responding; he just arches a brow, pinning me with a stare until the stiffness drains from my shoulders, and I breathe again.
“Sorry,” I mutter, pinching the bridge of my nose. “You know it takes me a while to reset.”
But he’s right. The sun’s climbing fast, gilding the northern peaks in a soft pink wash, and we’re out in the open with nothing but a carriage, two horses, a few scraps of scrub, and a giant fucking burn scar where Cal just incinerated two Citadel officers. We’re exposed, running out of time, and Lyra’s slipping into shock. We need to move before anyone arrives or before she hurts herself further.
Pulse hammering against my chest, I swallow and remember where I am—who I am—and drop to one knee beside her, hands still lifted in surrender as if that alone might steady her.
“Lyra,” I say, softer now. “Hey, look at me. Breathe. Just breathe, all right?”
But it’s no use. Her gaze has gone glassy, far away, and her breaths keep coming in quick, uneven pulls—shallow and erratic, like her lungs have lost the pattern entirely.
“Think you can keep her calm until we land?” Luc asks.
“I can try to calm her for now, but the second we’re airborne?—”
“It’s not worth the risk,”Cal growls through my mind.“She will fall.”
Gritting my teeth, I shove him down as best I can. I need to focus; I can’t have him crowding my thoughts right now.
Still, he’s not wrong. She’s barely holding on. Her arm is probably dislocated, her face is bruised and cut from the Trials. Add the height, a dragon, and the speed of being airborne? She’ll bloody lose it.
But the other option isn’t much better...
Before I can talk myself out of it, I reach out. Not to touch her, but toward the space around her where the air’s already humming with her magic. They’re vibrating so hard that I can feel them against my skin, sharp, frantic pulses coming off her in uneven bursts.
Her eyes flare wide with terror as she shoves her back against the cart behind her, but I force out a breath, feeling for the pattern beneath the chaos.
I leave the anger and just focus on her fear, and then I set my own Threads to match it. Not with emotion—just frequency. A steady, controlled force that pushes from my palm into the gap between us.
The moment it brushes skin, her Threads jerk. The impact jolts up my arm as they resist, then stutter, like they’re trying to find the rhythm I’m giving them.
“Come on,” I beg, barely a sound, but it isn’t enough. Her fear surges again, and she tries to crawl farther back, fingers skidding through the dirt as her bound legs drag uselessly beneath her. The carriage stops her from getting any farther, but she keeps fighting it, blood staining the ground beneath her as her magic flare with every frantic movement, resisting me as fiercely as she is.
