We were running along the edge of the molten river the wraith tracking our every move. But I have figured out the timing and I have a trick still up my sleeve, that is if it works.
"I've figured it out!" My voice cut through the chaos. "When I say throw me, throw with everything you have!"
Raiden's eyes snapped to me. Even with the Wraith between us, I saw the sharp flare in them-trust, no hesitation. He didn't question me, didn't argue. He just nodded once, tight and sure, as if my word was enough.
My chest tightened. Gods help me, it had to be.
Muir dove, wings slicing through the heat. Water burst from his palms, dousing part of the Wraith. Its form scattered like smoke ripped by wind, reforming slower, weaker.
"Now!" I screamed.
Raiden was there in a flash, grabbing my arm. The strength in his grip was almost bruising, but I welcomed it. He spun once, then hurled me with every ounce of power he had.
The world tore away.
I was flying—no, plummeting—through the air, heat lashing at my skin, the relic's glow a beacon blazing closer. My stomach lurched, wind clawing my throat.
This has to work. It has to.
At the last second, instinct roared alive. Wings burst from my back—brilliant, blinding, raw. They snapped wide, air screaming through them. My momentum slowed, the membrane catching the red glow of the lava below.
For a breath, I floated, suspended over fire.
Then the wings faltered, vanishing like smoke.
I dropped, claws ripping from my fingers as panic seized me. I slammed into the obsidian cliffside. Pain jolted through my arms as my talons dug deep, screeching against stone. Sparks flared.
I hung there, gasping, every muscle straining. Below, lava churned hungrily.
Above, Raiden and Muir held the Wraith back with everything they had. Lightning split the air. Water hissed into steam. Each blow cost them.
My arms shook. My lungs burned. But I climbed. One hand, then the other, talons tearing grooves into black rock. My breath came ragged, my body screaming, but I didn't stop.
I hauled myself over the ledge.
And there it was.
The relic.
It pulsed on a black pedestal, light thrumming like a heartbeat—like my heartbeat—demanding, calling.
The Wraith shrieked, sensing me. Its body swelled, shadows surging, fury unleashed. It broke past Raiden and Muir in a violent rush.
But I was faster.
My hands closed around the relic.
And it shattered.
Molten shards exploded, embedding into my skin, burning into my veins. I choked on a scream as fire seared through me, scorching and suffocating and somehow—achingly—right.
The chamber vanished in light.
A deep, rough voice echoed through the inferno inside me.
"At last…"
The flames swallowed me whole.
"Now let us burn…."
⸻
I rose, not on my own legs but lifted by the blaze coursing through me. My body burned, alight with power that wasn't mine and yet was. Flames erupted from my palms, wild and ravenous, devouring the air.
The Wraith lunged, its shriek splitting the cavern.
I met it head-on.
Fire clashed with ash, explosion after explosion rattling the cavern. Rivers of lava split wider, spraying molten rock. The ground heaved, the ceiling cracked.
The Wraith coiled around me, shadow-fire crushing, suffocating. My lungs burned, my vision blurred. I screamed, unleashing a torrent of flame so fierce it blinded even me. Its shriek fractured, staggering under the blaze.
It struck again, hurling me back toward the magma. My feet skidded across obsidian, the heat blistering. I slipped, balance gone—
The Wraith lunged after me, endless and furious.
"Enough!" I roared, dragging up the last dregs of power in my veins, every shard, every flame, every piece of myself. I hurled it forward in one final scream.
Fire consumed it. Ripped it apart from the inside out.
Its shriek rattled the cavern—and then it was gone.
Ash rained. Silence pressed in.
And my fire guttered out.
The strength fled my body, my knees buckled, the stone crumbled beneath me—then nothing. I was falling.
The molten river rushed up to meet me. Heat clawed at my skin, brighter, closer, certain.
"LYRA!" Raiden's roar tore through the chamber. Lightning arced wild as he lunged toward me—but he was too far. I saw it in his eyes. He was drained of power to. He wouldn't make it.
Terror gripped me. For a heartbeat, I almost let go.
"We do not die like this" in my exhaustion my voice sounds like many.
With everything I had left, I dragged the fire back into me. My wings burst from my back, searing white-gold, fragile and blazing all at once.
One wing beat. Two. Three.
Enough.
My body lurched upward, barely clearing the river of magma, before I crashed onto solid stone. My chest hit first, breath ripped out of me. My wings vanished into ash.
I was shaking, broken, tired—but alive.
⸻
Raiden ran to me, crouched down, and pulled me to my knees. His grip was iron, his chest heaving against mine.
"You almost died," he rasped. His hands shook where they clamped on my arms. "Gods, Lyra—"
Anger rose sharp in my throat, because I couldn't stand the way his voice broke. "Wouldn't that just ruin your precious plans?"
His eyes snapped to mine, bright and furious, like I'd struck him. Before I could blink, his hand caught my jaw—rough, scorching. My heart stuttered.
Then he pulled me in, and his mouth crashed against mine.
The kiss burned hotter than the relic ever had. No gentleness, no space to breathe—just fire, teeth, the taste of him searing through me. His hand clamped the back of my neck, forcing my spine to arch, while the other slid lower, gripping my hip, dragging me hard against him until I could feel every line of his body.
A helpless sound broke from me, swallowed by his mouth. He deepened the kiss, demanding, relentless, like he could pour every ounce of fury and fear he'd felt straight into me.
I hated—gods, I hated—how my body melted against his. My fingers curled into his tunic, clutching, traitorous, because every time he dragged me closer I forgot how to breathe.
Heat roared through me, hotter than anything I'd ever known. His teeth grazed my lip, sharp enough to sting, and I gasped. He caught the sound, devoured it, turned it into something that left my knees weak.
It was wild, dangerous, the kind of kiss that promised nothing but ruin. And still, I couldn't tear myself away.
Another sound tore out of me—half moan, half gasp. My nails dug into his shoulders, anchoring myself to the strength of him even as my mind screamed to shove him off.
He pressed harder, lips bruising, tongue sweeping over mine—claiming, demanding. Sparks lit wherever he touched, racing through me until my body betrayed me, arching into him instead of away. My thighs trembled, heat pooling low, and I hated the way I craved more.
He tore his mouth from mine just long enough to rasp against my lips, breath ragged, voice breaking like gravel. "You drive me mad."
Then his mouth crashed back onto mine, harsher, hungrier, until my knees buckled. His hand slid from my hip to the curve of my waist, hauling me tighter, holding me like he'd shatter if he let go.
My gasp broke against his lips, and he caught it, swallowed it with a low groan that curled heat deep in my belly.
When his teeth caught my bottom lip again, a shiver ripped down my spine. My breath hitched, sharp and traitorous, and I hated the way his name almost slipped past my tongue.
He broke the kiss only long enough to rest his forehead against mine, his chest heaving, words torn out of him between breaths. "Damn you, little thief…" His lips brushed mine again, trembling.
And I—gods help me—I didn't pull away.