Thierren growls out a spell, falls to one knee and levels his wand at Sparrow’s spider.

A rush of cold hits Sparrow, a chill-sting tingling over her skin as a bolt of crystalline ice scythes from Thierren’s wand and impales the spider’s head, shearing it clear off in a spray of dark ichor. She drops to the ground, pummeled by wildly thrashing legs.

Thierren draws his sword and vengefully hacks off gray legs, then leans over, his strong arms coming around Sparrow to swiftly carry her away. She lets her eyes flit backward once, her gut heaving as she takes in the headless, half-legless creature twitching on its side.

Thierren lowers her to the ground and her gaze collides with his. A frisson of pure ardor blazes through her, the passionate ferocity in Thierren’s eyes stunning to behold. He unsheathes a knife and begins to cut the thick, sticky webbing from her body with a single-minded drive bordering on desperation.

Sparrow cranes her head, frantically looking for Aislinn as her heart threatens to pound a hole through her chest. “Aislinn!” she calls out as she spots her friend’s webbed form, her rough cry breaking off as she coughs up sand and blinks its sting from her eyes.

“She’s all right,” Thierren assures her, sounding rattled as he pulls away a great swath of webbing, then pauses when he finds her naked underneath. His widened eyes lift to meet hers.

“Thierren, get it off of me,” Sparrow prods, caring more about being freed than modesty.

“Get your hands off her, Roach!” Ulluwyn’s growl cuts through the air as she’s suddenly there, shouldering Thierren aside, her blue eyes condemning.

Thierren moves back as he looks from Ulluwyn to Sparrow, then away, seeming dazed.

“What just happened, Crow?” Ulluwyn barks.

Thierren’s head snaps to Ulluwyn as he eyes her in confusion.

She swipes her thumb toward the nearest storm spider. “The shielding only your magery could take down? The gray Crow runes all over them? What are you in league with?”

Thierren gapes at her. “You think I’m in league with those things?”

“I don’t know what to think, Mage,” Ulluwyn bites out before making quick work of the rest of the webbing with a runic blade, freeing Sparrow’s limbs.

Sparrow’s heart gives a hard twist at Thierren’s look of devastation. Sitting up, she cranes her head to view the other Vu Trin and Raz’zor untangling Aislinn as Thierren strides to Effrey, who has broken into great, shuddering sobs, his gaze pinned with terror on Sparrow.

Thierren kneels before Effrey and brings his hand to the child’s shoulder, his voice low and calm when it comes, belying none of the anguish Sparrow knows he’s feeling. “She’s all right. Effrey, she’s all right.”