The battlefield still smoked from the Sky Reavers' fall. The caravan's wagons were battered, two burned to cinders, but they had survived. Survivors moved like shadows, collecting the dead, mending harnesses, dousing smoldering flames.
Ryan's chest still heaved from the firestorm he had unleashed. His aura was quiet now, but his muscles trembled from the strain, every heartbeat echoing the shard's thrum.
Kaelin stood nearby, blade still wet with black ichor. Her silver hair clung to her sweat-dampened cheek, and her eyes — sharp as ever — stayed fixed on him.
"You nearly lost yourself out there," she said flatly. "Again."
Ryan exhaled, trying to laugh but failing. "And we're still alive. I'll take it."
She stepped closer, glare fierce. "Alive now. But next time?"
Her tone was sharp, but Ryan heard what lay beneath: fear. Not of him — but for him.
The heat between them wasn't just from the fires.
Before he could answer, a horn blared from the caravan guard. "Movement! East ridge!"
---
Out of the ash mist slithered a new horror.
The earth shook as a colossal serpent uncoiled from the rocks, its scales glistening like obsidian glass. Its eyes burned crimson, its maw dripping with black venom that hissed on the ground.
"The Void Serpent," Lyra breathed, her face paling. "A remnant of the Wilds."
Theron grinned, hefting his axe. "Finally, something worth hitting."
But Ryan's shard pulsed violently — harder than ever. This beast wasn't just another corrupted monster. It was tethered to the same resonance pulling at him.
The serpent struck, faster than its size should allow. Wagons splintered. Soldiers screamed.
"Ryan!" Kaelin shouted, shoving him clear as the serpent's tail smashed into the earth where he'd stood. The shockwave threw them both to the dirt.
He scrambled to his feet, aura blazing. Kaelin was beside him, blade raised, her body taut with focus.
They moved together — instinctively, seamlessly. Her silver arc drew the serpent's gaze while Ryan's flames flared to blind it. Its strike missed, fangs gouging earth instead of flesh.
But every blow Ryan landed burned through him. The shard whispered louder. More. More. Burn everything.
He staggered, nearly dropping his blade. Kaelin caught his arm, steadying him.
Her eyes burned into his. "Don't you dare give in. Stay with me."
The world blurred — the serpent coiling, the caravan screaming, the shard raging — but all Ryan saw was her. Her grip. Her voice.
And then he answered the shard not with fire, but with choice.
His aura flared, not wild but sharp, a controlled blaze. He channeled it through Kaelin's strike, their powers entwining in a single devastating arc. Fire and silver light tore through the serpent's neck.
It shrieked once, then collapsed in a convulsion of shadow and ash.
Silence followed, broken only by Ryan's ragged breaths.
Kaelin still held his arm, her face inches from his. Sweat streaked her temple, her chest rose and fell in sharp breaths. Her eyes — no longer guarded, no longer distant — shone with something raw.
"You idiot," she whispered. "You almost died."
Before Ryan could speak, she pulled him closer — and her lips crashed into his.
The kiss was fierce, hot, born of fire and fear and survival. Her hand gripped the back of his neck, pulling him against her, and for a moment the shard was silent, the world was silent — there was only her.
When she broke away, her breath was ragged. She scowled, trying to hide what she'd just revealed.
"Don't read into it," she snapped, stepping back. But the heat in her eyes betrayed her words.
Ryan stood frozen, lips tingling, chest hammering harder than any battle.
Lyra's voice cut across the camp. "The Ashborn gates are near. We move at first light."
The caravan stirred again, soldiers rallying, survivors regrouping. The adventure pressed on.
But Ryan knew nothing would be the same.