Page 144 of Embers of Ruin

“You can’t defeat us, Shadow King. And you won’t be able to hide them from us for much longer.”

I shake my head, knowing he’s referencing the settlement. Terror seizes my chest as I watch the two, but Thorin doesn't hesitate. Every movement is precise, every strike calculated, and rage doesn’t make him reckless.

It makes him faster.

His shadows snap toward Malveris like starving wolves, forcing him backward across the rubble. Crimson light crashes into living darkness again and again, but Thorin keeps advancing, giving him no room to breathe. I see a flicker of fear flash across Malveris's face, replaced by an anger so palpable I can almost touch it. He throws one hand toward the sky and screams words I don’t understand.

The shadows at his feet writhe as Thorin lunges—but Malveris slips from his grasp by an inch. Crimson light erupts around Malveris, swallowing him whole as Thorin's shadows crash into empty air. The light slowly fades and Thorin whirls, narrowing his black eyes as he searches the compound.

But Malveris is gone.

When Thorin turns, bodies scatter from his path, not because he commands them to move but because instinct tells them death is coming. His expression never changes. There is no rage on his face now. Only absolute certainty.

Then…

He sees me, and everything stops.

The lightning stills, and his shadows hesitate. Across the cavern, those endless black eyes lock onto mine, and I watch him inhale sharply, as though remembering how to breathe. The darkness recedes from his face by inches. The veins remain, but the shadows circling his feet grow still, settling against the stone like obedient wolves returning to their master’s side.

Around us, the battle continues.

Neither of us notices.

He crosses the distance between us without taking his eyes off mine, stepping over broken stone and fallen weapons as though nothing else in this world exists. When he reaches me, his sword slips from his hand and strikes the ground with a dull clang. He places a hand against the glass cage, and the black returns, racing across his skin.

Throwing his head back, he unleashes a roar so primal it shakes the earth beneath my feet.

The world answers.

A deafening crack splits the air as the cage explodes. Glass erupts in every direction, shattering into a million glittering fragments, but not a single shard reaches me. His shadows sweep around me, catching every piece before it can touch my skin.

“Lyra.”

I’ve heard my name spoken a hundred different ways, but never like this.

He’s in front of me in a heartbeat, cupping my cheeks gently, running his hands through my hair. I can’t stop sobbing, saying his name over and over as if it’s a prayer. Thorin’s here. He found me. Thorin came for me.

“Are you hurt?”

I shake my head before pulling his face to mine, crushing him with a kiss that feels centuries overdue. He rests his forehead against mine, his breathing ragged as thunder and lightning continue to darken the sky. The sky is completely black—it’s as if he commands the night itself.

The breath leaves him in a ragged exhale, as though he’d been holding it from the moment I disappeared.

“Thank the gods, Lyra.”

I almost laugh. After everything I’ve witnessed…

I don't think even the gods could have stopped him from finding me.

“Thorin, take me home.”

His gaze meets mine, and he nods, knowing exactly where home is.

He’s taking me to Andell.

“I love you,” I whisper.

“I know,” he says, and that stupid smirk crosses his face.