At his order, I allow Fenryr to pull me through the open palace doors. We stumble outside, rolling down the staircase in a tangle of limbs and wings before crashing to the ice below. Pain bursts across my forearm as a small pop breaks the air, and I look down with hooded eyes to see my left arm bent at an odd angle.

I blink against the searing agony, struggling to my knees as a mournful howl echoes into the barren landscape. I turn to find Fenryr crouched on all fours, his chin tipped back as the hollow note bursts from his open mouth.

A flapping sound draws my attention to my left, where Cyprien is lowering to the ground, his face pinched in agony as his broken wings beat erratically against the roaring wind. Kaebl and Roark stumble down the same stairwell Fenryr and I used, their wings hanging limply from their shoulders, brushing the frozen steps and coating the tips in ice.

Just as they make it to the bottom, Fenryr latches onto my forearm, his eyes glinting with a terrifying desperation as he attempts to haul me away from the crumbling palace. I pull against him, refusing to let him take me any farther from my mate—my Dagny.

“No!” I yell. “No! I won’t leave her down there!”

Fenryr snarls, jumping away just in time to dodge the blow intended for his face. He crouches low, his chest heaving as his gaze flickers with shadows, his shoulders trembling as he tries to gain control of his beast. “She’s going… going to meet us there.”

“Meet us where?” Cyprien demands. “We have to save her before the castle⁠—”

Before he can finish, Fenryr turns and starts running in the opposite direction of the palace, his injured and bleeding legs taking him as fast as they’re able to the line of welwigs that line the outskirts of Slaine’s territory. Kaebl stares after him for a few moments, then turns his attention to Roark, his chin tipping in an inconspicuous nod.

Roark lunges, grabbing Cyprien’s arm in his massive palm and using his inhuman strength to haul him, snarling and fighting, across the ice after Fenryr. I try to push to my feet, to run back into the castle, but then Kaebl is there, his face like fire as he blocks the entrance.

We have to go, Lir. We have to follow Fenryr.

“But Dagny⁠—”

She’ll be okay. He looks over his shoulder, his eyes pinching in jealousy. She’s with Malice.

He reaches for my arm, his intention clear—but we both know he’s not strong enough to handle me the way Roark is Cyprien. I wave him off, rising to a stand and casting one last, mournful glance toward the castle.

Lir, we have to go.