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The air around him twists again, distorting, like heat rising from a burning ground. A low growl vibrates in his throat, something primal, something savage, and before my eyes, his form begins to collapse inward, his skin tightening, his bones twisting, elongating.

Zander barely has time to react, raising his sword just in time to deflect a swipe, but Keagan is faster. His body compresses, reshapes, until he is no longer recognizable, no longer anything we can predict. He has become something else entirely.

A massive creature, sleek and muscular, emerges from the chaos. His fur is as dark as midnight, and his eyes gleam with unsettling intelligence. His paws, huge and lethal, scrape against the earth, claws digging deep into the dirt. It moves with an unnatural grace, each step a silent glide across the ground.

Its glowing predatory eyes lock onto its target with the cold precision of a hunter. The body is built for speed, power, and stealth. From his back, two enormous wings burst forth, black feathers, gleaming in the moonlight, their span wide enough to block out the stars. The wings arch as though they are made for destruction, sharp and terrifying.

The monster growls, the sound deep and guttural, vibrating the very air around us. And yet, Keagan is still in control. There is no fear in him. No hesitation.

He is reveling in this.

His claws rake across the ground again, and he lunges toward Zander. The power in his movements is otherworldly. Zander barely has time to raise his sword before Keagan is upon him, his claws scraping against the metal. Keagan is faster, the sheer force of his weight slamming into Zander’s chest, sending him crashing into the ground.

I barely have time to react. I raise my hand, a desperate wave of sound pulsing through the air, but it is too late. Keagan is already towering over us, a beast of terror, his wings spreading wide as he prepares for the final strike.

Zander and I are fighting for our lives.

I raise my hand again, but I am too slow. Keagan lunges once more, elongated fangs protruding from his snout, snapping at the air. I barely manage to dodge. Blood is pouring from all over my body, from gash after gash, causing a faint lightheadedness that is getting harder to ignore.

Keagan’s massive claws slash downward again. The force of the blow sends me stumbling back, my feet slipping on the blood-soaked earth.

Keagan's claws dig in, his canines on full display as he takes a step toward Zander, the sharp, jagged tips glinting in the moonlight like twisted daggers. A guttural laugh echoes from his throat, the sound sharp and cruel. “You’re not even trying anymore,” he taunts, crouching low to Zander’s level. His claws flex in anticipation. “Is this it? Is this all you’ve got?”

Zander tries to lift his blade, but it is too heavy, his body too weakened. I can see the defeat in his eyes, the moment when he realizes there is nothing left to give.

The bloodied earth beneath us seems to swallow the last remnants of hope. I can almost feel the end, the cold embrace of death inching closer with each labored breath.

Keagan steps closer to Zander, crouching beside him like a predator savoring its kill. He leans in close to Zander’s ear, his words so low and laced with malice that I can hardly make out what he is saying. “Too bad. I’ll make sure she knows how weak you are.” His wings flare, the feathers like razors, and with a final screech of defiance, Keagan shifts once more.

The monster’s massive form disappears into a flurry of feathers, a violent burst of air, and in its place, a crow black as sin spreads its wings wide. The creature lets out a caw, one last mocking cry that echoes in the night, and then it is gone.

Feathers scatter in the wind, drifting down like cold raindrops, landing in the bloodied soil.

That is the last thing I see before the darkness claims me.

Chapter forty

Drained

When we finally stir from the darkness, the weight of our bodies dragging us back to the realm of the living, it is clear we didn't win.

I blink against the morning rays that pierce the canopy above us, my senses returning slowly. The cold earth beneath me is soaked with blood—mine, Zander's, Ash's.

The air is thick with the remnants of battle, the taste of iron on my tongue. The pain is unbearable, my body an unrecognizable map of cuts, bruises, and broken bones, but the most unbearable thing is the stillness around us.

Zander is beside me, his chest barely rising and falling. His face is pale, blood smeared across his jaw, and his breathing shallow.

Ash? He has to be alive.

I twist, the ache in my muscles making me wince, as I find him lying a few feet away, his face twisted in exhaustion, but his chest still rises, a slow, erratic rhythm. His fingers twitch, and the corner of my mouth twitches in relief, but I can't bring myself to relax fully.

Then, as I watch, something flickers in the shadows around him. “Oberon?” The name slips from my lips before I can stop it, my voice barely a whisper, a hallucination in the chaos of the moment.

“Oberon?” I repeat, louder this time, as if calling out to him through the madness, my heart pounding.

Before the name can settle, the shadows are gone, vanishing as quickly as they came.

Ash stirs, his fingers flexing, his groan a sign of life, and the unease in my chest only deepens.