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Bruiser wished he could help, but compared to Uriel, his skill sets were terribly limited.

They didn’t have a chance to brainstorm. Xenowen raised his arms and chanted. Energy exploded out of him in a growing sphere.

Uriel swore and stopped the spell he was casting, hurriedly throwing up a shield. Xenowen’s spell bounced off the shield—except it also gave away their location.

“Fuck!” Bruiser twisted his body, beating his wings hard to get them away.

Xenowen seemed to be able to track them, though. No matter where they flew, his eyes followed them. It made sense; he was old. How much more experience did he have over Uriel? Bruiser knew that older dragons were more wily; Xenowen had to be the same.

Uriel was casting another spell. It looked long and complicated. Bruiser held his breath and kept an eye on their surroundings. Uriel really had to find a way to speed things up, even if his fingers were already flying through the air.

Xenowen lost his patience. With a yell, he shot a bolt of energy at them.

Bruiser wasn’t fast enough to dodge it. He twisted them around, but it hit him squarely in the wings. “Fuck!”

“Bruiser!” Uriel cried.

“I’m fine,” Bruiser said, winded. His wingtips were freezing, though. He’d never felt them freeze that way before. It was enough to make him panic. “Maybe slightly frostbitten.”

Uriel’s eyes grew wide. Then they narrowed in sheer rage.

Oh, he was beautiful.

When Bruiser turned them back around to face Xenowen, he realized he was too late—another blast hit them, burning off Uriel’s invisibility spell.

Bruiser felt extremely exposed, suddenly. He wasn’t wearing a single stitch of clothing, and Uriel had on the barest scrap of lace.

“Oh,” Xenowen said, pleased. He raked his eyes greedily over them. “How wonderful. You didn’t need me to strip you, since you’ve already done it for me.”

Bruiser wanted to incinerate him into ashes.

“You will not hurt us,” Uriel bellowed. And suddenly the power radiating from him grew tenfold, like he had a secret stash that he was only now cracking open.

Xenowen’s eyes grew wide. “No. How is this possible? None of the experiments increased your power. I would have harnessed it—”

“Fuck you and your experiments!” Uriel snarled, his hands glowing. “This power is all mine.”

He seemed to grow bigger in Bruiser’s arms; he was livid.

Uriel blasted a wave of pure energy at Xenowen, who waved his arms and pushed it all aside.

This wasn’t going to work, if their attacks went nowhere.

Thinking quickly, Bruiser muttered, “Remember the time you saved me from the giant pink dick?”

“What about it?” Uriel seethed.

“Make a few of those. Whip him into shape.”

“You can’t just—Fine! Buy me some time.” Uriel began to mutter, hurriedly scribbling shimmering gold runes into the air. On the other side of their aerial battlefield, Xenowen was casting a spell too, his eyes glittering and eager.

Xenowen fired his spell first. It was a greenish-black mist that exploded outward, ominous tendrils reaching for them like they meant to capture and choke the life out of Uriel and Bruiser.

Bruiser beat his wings hard, flying them backward to escape that mist. But no matter how fast he flew, the mist kept gaining on them.

C’mon, c’mon, c’mon! Bruiser kept his chanting silent, afraid of breaking Uriel’s concentration as he wove his spell.

The poisonous mist grew closer, mere feet away. Bruiser flapped his wings hard, desperate now. He couldn’t let the fucker hurt Uriel. Uriel was beyond important; he was the light of Bruiser’s life. If Xenowen took Uriel away from him—