Bindings lash around my body, the breath forced from my lungs as my wands are wrenched from my hand and I’m yanked away from Or’myr and Raz’zor with a force so violent I’m thrown into the churning mist at terrifying speed. Hurtling downward, my imprisoning bindings cinch tight as I accelerate into free fall.

A hard upward jerk on my bindings forces a cry from my throat as I’m yanked skyward, suddenly bobbing in the Shadow like a pendulum as the smoke dissipates. My gaze darting frantically around, I take in the nightmarish situation. I’m hanging in a net of Shadow, tethered to a gray dragon above me. Pulse thundering, I search through the lingering fingers of smoke and spot Raz’zor and Or’myr also caught in Shadow nets, Or’myr’s captured form dangling from another dragon, Raz’zor’s huge pale form tethered to four.

All of us being flown straight toward Marcus Vogel, his Shadow Wand clasped in his upraised hand.

CHAPTER TWO

BLACK WITCH RISING

Elloren Grey

Vo Mountains

Like a sack of grain, I’m dumped onto the rocky mountaintop ledge near Vogel’s booted feet, my vine-bound body slamming onto stone.

Gold sears across my grayed vision, Wyvernfire scorching through me as I sense Yvan drawing ever nearer. I blink the gold away to find Sparrow’s bound form before me, the fear in her eyes so stark I’m hit by a fresh jolt of panic. Frantic, I turn toward Lukas and meet his gray-glowing eyes.

“Lukas!” I cry, my heart blazed through with the yearning to break through to him, but his gaze remains chillingly blank.

For a moment, my emotions splinter around the horror of seeing him so cruelly altered. I can barely think past it. But then a shock wave of animalistic rage surges through me.

Tensing every muscle against my Shadow bindings, I draw power into my lines, ready to blast my full aura against Vogel’s Shadow tether. But before I can move against Vogel, his magic clenches in and I wheeze out a huff, his power a suffocating coil.

Vogel slices his Wand through the air above me, and vines dart from his Wand’s tip, webbing me to the stone like a captured insect. A portion of the bindings slither upward, gagging me and pinning my head to the floor, another portion whipping around my blades and emptying them onto the ledge, where they’re hastily retrieved by surrounding soldiers.

I strain to look past Lukas and Sparrow as I mentally hurl out—Raz’zor!

An answering blaze of crimson fire scalds my lines. I tilt my head backward, Or’myr and Raz’zor just behind me near the ledge’s edge, also webbed to stone. Raz’zor is snarling against the cords muzzling his jaw shut, his eyes two enraged coals, as Or’myr glares murderously at Vogel, his wand gone.