“Tierney,” he says, his wings fanning out, prompting a shiver of want through my fire.

“The Vu Trin staged your death all too well, Lasair’kin,” Tierney says with an expression of vast relief as they embrace.

“It’s good to see you, Asrai’kin,” he rejoins, heartfelt, as I’m swept up in the remembrance of the two of them sitting together by our bonfire in Verpacia, both glamoured and in terrible danger. A grateful ache forms in my chest to see them reunited here in the Eastern Realm, safely able to exist in their true forms.

The focused auras streaming toward Tierney intensify, snagging my attention and I turn, searching for the sources of the invisible purple lightning and warm fire. I swifly trace the impassioned lightning to Or’myr, who is studying Tierney, keeping his expression coolly analytical; then follow the fire magic to Wrenfir, my young uncle’s spider-marked expression studiously devoid of emotion as his power flows toward her in a potent blaze. Even Rivyr’el seems a bit entranced.

I turn back to Tierney as it dawns on me that she’s quite the stunning beauty in her true form, no longer boxed in by the unforgiving, painful glamour. I can’t help but wonder if she realizes how much bedazzled attention she’s inspiring, and if she does, what she must make of it all.

Distant footsteps echo and all conversation dies down, an anxious tremor passing through me as everyone turns toward the sound.

“Ren,” Trystan says gently from where he’s come up beside me as he touches my elbow.

I look at him, my younger brother’s gaze warm with anticipation. Heart quickening, I turn back toward the terrace’s dark bend as several figures emerge, striding through the shadows, their gaits powerful, their movements fluid and uniform. Runic light washes over them and my legs almost give way beneath me.

Rafe and Diana are in the lead, Jarod, Andras, and Aislinn behind them, all of them possessing the wild, amber eyes of the Southern Lupines. All of them wearing black Vu Trin uniforms.

My lungs seize as I stagger forward, then break into a breathless run just as my brother Rafe launches toward me as well, a sob tearing from my throat as he catches me up in his strong arms and hugs me tightly.

“You’re Lupine,” I marvel, hugging him close then drawing back to look over his tall form. Never wanting to be parted from my brother again.

Rafe laughs, tears sheening his amber eyes. “I am. And it’s good, Ren.”

It’s an adjustment to take in his transformation, but an overwhelmingly good one, his eyes no longer the familiar Mage green but infused with amber radiance, the green glimmer of his skin suffused with a ruddy underlying glow. My elder brother has always radiated physical power, but never with the intensity he does now, his entire frame seeming bigger, stronger.