The dual heat burns through me, blazing in from both northeast and due north in a volcanic chaos of Wyvernfire.

Holy gods, are both Yvan and Raz’zor searching for me?

Vothe’s nostrils flare and his gaze swings toward me.

My heart jumps into my throat as a flash of Vothe’s lightning strikes through my tangled lines, blazing through the Wyvernfire in a hot, relentless current. Trystan’s power breaks free of his control to whip around me in a protective frenzy.

Wyvernfire and lightning sparking in my vision, I rise from the shadows, blade in hand.

Vothe’s head tilts, his face taking on a look of confusion. “You look just like Or’myr...”

Trystan’s magic gives a wildly combustive flare and Vothe’s head whips toward him before his gaze swings back to me with intensifying focus. A look of shock comes over his features as the lightning forking all over his skin flashes bright.

“Blessed Vo,” he murmurs, “this is your sister.”

I take a step back as Vothe’s power turns cyclonic. It crashes through me, his wings fanning powerfully out. He bares his teeth and advances.

Trystan throws himself between us and draws his wand at the same time I raise my blade, sweat breaking out all over my body.

“Vothe,” Trystan pleads, even as his power doubles down, consolidating inside his wand. “Please. If you’ve ever believed me about anything...”

Vothe hisses out what sounds like a series of vehement curses in a sibilant language that my koi’lon translation rune can’t decipher, his electrified eyes fixed on me.

I hold his ignited stare, ferocity suddenly rising within me to match the shifter’s own. “Do you fight for the Eastern Realm?” I challenge him, fire burning through my lines.

Vothe’s head flinches back. He narrows his incendiary gaze at me. “Yes, witch,” he hisses. “And for the Zhilon’ile Wyvernkin and our domain.”

I step decidedly down off the skiff, the force of all the elemental and Wyvern power whipping around and through me like an inferno about to overtake Noilaan.

“Ren,” Trystan cautions as I shoulder past my brother and pull out of his attempt to grip my arm. I stride up to Vothe, who fans his wings farther out in a menacing display.

“You’re a shifter,” I bite out, “so you can sense if I’m speaking the truth. So, read me, shifter. I’m here to fight for the Eastern Realm. Tell me, do you sense a lie?”

Vothe’s brow tenses tight as wild conflict churns though his aura.

“You know I speak the truth,” I vehemently state, “so hear the truth. Vogel can break your runes. All your runes. Your rune wall, the dome over this city—” I sweep my arm in a wide arc “—the weapons of the Vu Trin army—he can destroy it all.”

“And how would you know this?” Vothe snarls, baring elongated teeth.