The temple screamed as it gave way, columns toppling and walls caving in, just as Val burst through the roof in a blast of rubble and flame.
Yara clung to him, one arm wrapped around his neck, the other cradling the soft, squirming weight of the hatchling. Her heart thundered in her ears, her vision blurred with wind and tears. Below them, the temple imploded in on itself, a sinking ruin swallowed by dust and fire.
They rose above it all—into the gray sky, into the sharp cold wind—carried by wings of flame and desperation.
Val's breath came hard, ragged from pain and exertion, but he didn't stop. His arms held them all with brutal strength, the wind tearing at his clothes, his hair whipping wildly around his face.
Yara turned her head against his chest, shielding the baby dragon from the biting air. The hatchling whimpered, curling into her warmth with a soft, instinctive cry.
