A world-breaking explosion detonates, shattering our fire-trance, searing pain ripping through my Sealing lines as both Yvan’s fire and mine are wrenched from our bodies. I gasp for breath, Yvan and I breaking the kiss, my vision of Lukas vanishing along with Yvan’s fire-shield as gold flashes over us. The top third of the Vo Mountain Range erupts in an ear-shattering boom and I shudder, the explosion reverberating through my body as the range implodes in on itself along with its corrupted storm band.

Wild grief punches through my chest.

“LUKAS!” The cry tears from my throat as my wrists’ Sealing lines disappear, my knees buckling as I realize that not only Lukas, but Or’myr, Raz’zor, and Sparrow are likely destroyed.

Yvan’s embrace loosens, his depleted aura guttering into chaos. My wild, grief-bludgeoned focus shifts to him, his eyes alarmingly cooled to green, a dazed, wan look on his face. I catch a glimpse over his shoulders of the Shadow tree surrounding us beginning to fragment, its branches juddering into smoke. Fear strikes through my gut and I lurch toward him, time seeming to slow. Yvan’s mouth opens, his eyes fluttering closed as the portion of solid Shadow beneath his feet morphs into smoke.

He falls backward, my hold on him tearing away.

“YVAN!” I cry as the world speeds back up with horrific clarity and I scrabble to regain my grip on him, unable to stop gravity’s vicious pull. My lungs strangle, the small portion of trunk beneath my feet shriveling inward.

“Yvan, no!” I cry again while he whirls away from me, plummeting toward the Shadow-coated river far below, his torn wings fluttering like shredded fringe.

A blast of golden heat hits me from above, and I gasp at the elemental rush, a hot spasm streaking through my lines. I jerk my devastated gaze upward just as the silver-fire moons explode into balls of churning yellow fire, countless black dragons suddenly bursting through the gold-burning moons.

Surprise knifes through my grief-ravaged mind. Because they’re not broken dragons.

They’re Western Wyverns, one dragon in the lead, bigger than all the others. One of her ears is gone, her eyes lit bright with golden fire, a Mage Council M branded on her side.

Naga the Unbroken!

The horde’s fiery power focuses in on me with violent intensity.

Reflexive terror cinches my gut as the dragons soar toward me and thrust their heads forward, jaws open wide, just as the remaining Shadow tree gives way to smoke and I fall.

I cry out, heart flying into my throat, while the dragons blast countless bolts of Wyvernfire toward me and I hurtle downward, limbs flailing, my world reduced to the blazing singularity of one, excruciating thought.

This is the moment I die.