Page 139 of Dream Reaper

He wasn’t hurting her… He was…helping?

Blistering elf fire poured into her fireball in a steady, controlled stream. The magic grew, spiraling around and around as it expanded in pulses that blew her hair away from her face. This magic was hot and uncontrolled, ancient and wild.

Yet it was laced with something warm and golden, something that made her think of summer days and sandy beaches…

Sand magic.

Her panic evaporated in an explosion of relief as she threw herself wide open and allowed the dark elf prince to help her. Together, they poured their combined magic into the fireball, a weapon forged of elf flame, sand magic, and stolen darkness.

Prince Haryk’s arms shook against hers, his veins bulging beneath his taut skin, his muscles straining with effort. She ground her teeth together, and the prince’s fingers curved around hers like a bird’s talons.

Then he shifted his hands, guiding hers so that their palms braced against the back of the fireball. She tilted her face toward the sky, heart in her throat.

“Jerrid,” she screamed.

He spun toward her, spiraling through the air as more tentacles swarmed around him. His eyes widened, but then a grin ripped across his face, and he whooped. He launched upward, over a jabbing shadow spear, and then he ducked low, sweeping across the ground toward them.

Prince Haryk drove her arms forward, and together, they hurled the fireball into the sky.

The moment the magic left her palms, Ava’s body went limp, her muscles refusing to respond to her commands. Prince Haryk tried to catch her, but he collapsed too, and they hit the ground with a jarring thud.

They watched the trajectory of their weapon, forged of not one but three kingdoms.

Their final, desperate hope.

Would it be enough?

CHAPTER 34

JERRID

As the gigantic fireball hurtled toward him, Jerrid’s thoughts were strangely silent.

Calm. Focused.

Ever since he had ripped himself out of the nightmare realm, his dragon self had gone still. It had been a quiet but desperate flight back to Ava. He could still feel that dragon side of him, but something had changed.

Something had shifted so that he no longer heard the distinct voice in his head. Just his own thoughts, thinking the things Dragon would usually hurl his way. The little taunts and rebuttals. The drive to keep pushing onward. The fuel behind the simmering rage and worry that kept his wings in motion. Those things were all from Dragon.

But now they were from him, too.

Behind him, the shadow screamed, and shadows flashed as the tentacles recoiled for another strike.

Jerrid didn’t care, his mind focused on the fireball, on the silence. Maybe it was as Brynja had said. These things had always been a part of him, just a piece that he’d shorn off and shoved to the edge of his mind. And now that he’d put himself back together, he could no longer hear that distinct voice.

It was blissfully quiet…and a little lonely.

The fireball would slam into him in moments if he didn’t redirect it, but he was at peace with his decision.

He would destroy the shadow today or die trying.

His entire life had prepared him for this moment. It felt so right, the wings sprouting from his back, the dragon scales rippling over his skin as he fully embraced his shift, the heat billowing in his chest as he spun to position himself at the last possible second.

The fireball hurtled past him, and Jerrid spat a violent blast of dragon fire after it. His flames flew faster, wrapping around the fireball and exploding past it to slice through tentacles that whipped to defend itself, leaving a clear path to the heart of the shadow.

The combined magic ripped through the dark magic like a knife through soft butter.

He sensed the panic flooding from his enemy as their final attack met its intended mark. The fireball drove straight into the heart of darkness. The shadow broke like shattering glass.