In the center of the plush, volcanic-ash-bear rug, inside the heavily warded guest suite of the Obsidian Gate, Seraphina von Nacht drew in a sudden, sharp, ragged gasp of air.
Her small shoulders heaved as her lungs desperately synchronized with her returning consciousness.
The heavy, oppressive, pitch-black void of shadows that had coated the walls, ceiling, and windows of the bedroom instantly fractured, dissolving into harmless wisps of gray smoke before vanishing entirely into the ambient warmth of the room.
The connection was severed.
The black hole miles away in the Ashen Forest had been successfully deployed, the elemental behemoth had been pinned, and the grumpy hedgehog had delivered the finishing blow.
Her remote-artillery mission was an undisputed, resounding tactical success.
Seraphina blinked, her dark brown eyes readjusting to the dim, flickering, reddish-orange light cast by the dying embers in the massive stone fireplace.
