The ground split open.

Not like a wound.

Like a mouth.

Lyla moved first, claws igniting with silver fire as she lunged for the Elder.

But the Elder did not flinch.

Did not defend.

Did not even care.

Because they had already won.

The wind howled.

The shadows beneath them unraveled not just darkness, but something alive.

Something old.

Something returning.

Eli’s voice was sharp. “Lyla”

Jorah’s golden eyes burned. “It’s not just them.”

Dani’s smirk ...