“I tell you repeatedly that I have secrets, witch, and you continue to underestimate me,” Krantz says coolly while he keeps a hand on Thorne’s nape. “If I take you out, let’s just say I have a plan for keeping Thayaria together. It will thrive without you.” Krantz smiles from across the yard, raising his sword and slicing Thorne on the thigh, right where the iron arrow hit him. Thorne winces in pain, and I scream my rage, but mine is not the only scream I hear. Fionn has arrived, and he’s all lethal warrior as he surveys the scene. I aerstep him to my side, never taking my eyes from Krantz.

“Let’s take this bastard down, queenie,” he roars, and I nod. Thorne has put up a shield to protect himself and stands, but Krantz and the remaining rebel fighters are pummeling him with magic and blades. Krantz’s strategy is clearly to target Thorne to get under my skin and force me to lose myself again, but I push down the urge, keeping a tight fist around the mating bond and its demands.

Fionn grunts, and at least half of the remaining weapons in the field have flown hundreds of yards away. What remains are now pointed directly at Krantz, who laughs.

That feeling of wrongness surrounds me again, and with Fionn at my side, I feel confident enough to close my eyes once more. The churning black mass around Krantz has grown, and red currents of aether flow into him faster than before. Thorne is particularly impacted, the aether that courses through him dimmed significantly. Fionn is also being drained. I have to find a way to stop Krantz, have to find a way to keep him from bleeding my mate and my friend dry of their aether-force.

When I open my eyes, Thorne has dropped to the ground again, and his shield dims. Fionn’s brow is damp with sweat. Krantz’s magic is affecting them.

“I need to keep my eyes closed so I can focus on Krantz,” I tell Fionn. “Can you cover me and keep Thorne protected for a little longer?”

Fionn clearly doesn’t understand my request, giving me a strange look, but he agrees anyway. “I got this.”

I close my eyes again and focus on the swirling black mass around Krantz. It’s made of aether but has been corrupted. I attempt pulling it away from him, willing the aether to bend toward me, but it resists. As I pull, it only gives slightly, like a jammed door or a stuck lever. The effort makes me lightheaded. It won’t budge, and I huff out my frustration, trying to focus through the dizziness that overtakes me.