The spark in the harbor grew teeth at 2:17 a.m.

Reed woke to the resonance (dragon-stone scars burning like molten silver). He was out of bed before the second pulse hit, bare feet hitting cold floor, heart hammering against ribs that still remembered Harold’s wings.

Laken was already at the window (wings of frost-fire unfurling wide enough to eclipse the moon). The frozen pond outside reflected a sky gone wrong (green fire bleeding across the stars like an ...