Back in the present.
The air was filled with panic.
Argon's grip tightened around Raven's limp form as he plunged through the portal—his jaw clenched, his other arm clutching the still-beating heart of the black dragon that pulsed like molten thunder.
The light swallowed them both.
For a moment, everything was silent, as Raven had stopped breathing in Argon's hand.
The man, however, hadn't noticed it in a hurry. He kept rushing his magic, wanting to reach the capital soon.
But then—
Raven's eyes snapped open.
A sharp gasp tore through his lungs as his vision blurred with streaks of white and gold.
The rush of space twisting around them pressed against his body, each pulse of the teleportation like a hammer to his nerves.
He blinked once—then twice.
He could see Argon's back, his father's arm wrapped tightly around him, muscles taut, aura flickering from exhaustion and raw fury.
"Hold on, Raven. Don't you dare—" Argon's voice was harsh, almost breaking.
