Ivory Fangs Radiant Soul (Wings of Embernia #3)

Chapter 1 Vaylen

Vaylen

The heat lashes against my face as I stare into the inferno, a ring of fire Heratrix cast to trap us. A Wind Wall would shield me, but I let the scorching air punish my skin. Each burning gust mirrors the wildfire raging within my chest.

Rhealyn is gone.

Not taken this time. She chose to leave. Chose Tahranis. Chose a path that leads away from everything I believed we were building together.

"High Prime, we must break out of here!" Cliffbecker shouts behind me, his voice barely audible over the roar of the encroaching fire. "The winds are shifting!"

I remain fixed at the boundary where safe ground meets destruction. Fragor roars in the distance. At first, I think it's due to my distress, but then I realize the emotions are very much his own. Heratrix's presence must be the culprit, though in my state, I can't be sure.

My gaze lifts to the fire-choked sky where the Goddess disappeared with Rhealyn astride her scales. The Queen of Dragons returned after a millennium, only to bring fire and despair into my heart.

Adelaide moves beside me, arms extended toward the fire. Her pale skin glistens with effort as she draws upon her Skytide element. Water materializes from the air, striking the flames, only to evaporate instantly with a defeated hiss. Steam billows upward, vanishing almost as quickly as it appears.

"It's no use," she gasps. "These aren't ordinary flames."

"Vaylen!" Dakar grabs my shoulder. "We need orders. Now."

Orders. The familiar weight of responsibility settles across my shoulders like the heaviest suit of armor. Whatever storm rages in my heart must wait. I'm High Prime Stormsong first and foremost.

"We need wind power," I say. "Phoebe, Dakar, we'll clear a path through the flames." I force control into my voice despite the chaos wreaking havoc in my chest.

The swirling heat of the flames creates a shimmering wall around us, casting flickering shadows across our faces. The wall extends twenty feet above us, lapping at the sky and leaning inward, forming a dome to engulf us completely.

I exchange tense glances with my comrades. Dakar's brows furrow in concentration. Phoebe comes away from Nate, who seems reluctant to let her go a mere inch away from his side. The others—Cliffbecker, Omari, Silverin, Caspian, and Adelaide—watch on, expressions etched in dread.

"On my signal, we channel Wind Walls to make a corridor," I command, silver light swirling in my eyes as I gather the wind to my will. "Ready yourselves."

I raise my arms, elemental power building within me, cool and controlled against the chaos of my thoughts.

My most important task is to protect my people.

The rest, the cold ache spreading beneath my ribs, must wait.

The swirling currents respond to my call, gathering around my outstretched fingers and loyally awaiting my command.

"Dakar, right wall. Phoebe, left one. I'll cover the top. We need a complete corridor to pass through. On my count," I announce, feeling the air between us become dense with power. "Three, two, one. Channel!"

Wind rushes from my fingertips, colliding with the barrier. The flames hiss and recoil as the elements clash. Our walls rise, but the fire fights back, hungrier, stronger than ordinary flame.

Our corridor forms slowly, the pathway narrow and unstable. Fire licks at the edges of our defenses, searching for weakness, threatening to collapse our escape route with each passing heartbeat.

The flames press closer, greedily licking at our perimeter. Heat waves distort the air as the ring constricts around us.

"Fire's closing in faster than a dragon on fresh meat," Dakar growls, his tattoos gleaming with sweat as he channels his power. Wind spirals from his palms, pushing back the eastern flank of flames.

Phoebe's eyes narrow in concentration, her small frame suddenly powerful as she extends her hands and creates a formidable western barrier. "The thermal updraft is strengthening the fire," she calls. "We must move quickly!"

I thrust my arms upward, palms flat against the oppressive heat. The wind answers my command, sweeping upward to form a protective canopy above the widening tunnel.

"Forward!" I order the others, maintaining the invisible ceiling as we begin our desperate march.

Cliffbecker leads the way, followed by the young Skyriders.

Every step feels weighted with the knowledge of what—who—has left me behind, and only my steadfast obligation keeps me moving forward even as my heart falters.

The makeshift wind corridor trembles under the fire's assault. We must reach our dragons before our strength wanes, before this inferno becomes our pyre—our dragons who stand on the other side, surely anxious for us, but unable to help lest their overpowering strength make this worse.

As we pass under the thick wall of flames—still visible at the end of our tunnel—the passage begins to collapse near its edges, orange tongues probing through cracks in our elemental shield, reaching for us with hungry fingers.

Each gasp fills my chest with liquid fire, searing down into my lungs.

My sleeves blacken and curl at the edges, releasing wisps of acrid smoke that twist around me.

The stench of burning leather mingles with the ash coating my throat, metallic and sharp on my tongue.

"Hold fast!" I command, pushing more power into my Wind Wall, borrowing all I can from Fragor. Silver energy crackles around my fingertips as I draw deeper from my reserves.

Phoebe stumbles, her barrier flickering dangerously on our left flank. Nate jumps forward, steadying her without breaking stride. Her jaw ticks as she clenches her teeth, face pale but determined.

The muscles in my shoulders burn with exertion, a physical manifestation of the strain placed on my elemental energy. Sweat streams down my temples, evaporating instantly in the infernal heat. My uniform clings to my skin, protective but also stifling.

"It's opening!" Cliffbecker shouts from the front of our formation.

"Dakar, reinforce your wall," I command, noting how the flames push harder against his barrier. "Adelaide, prepare to douse us once we're clear."

"Aye, High Prime," Adelaide calls.

The heat intensifies, unbearable now. My lungs protest each breath. Yet I manage to move forward, putting one foot before the other. I will not lose a single rider to these flames. Not when I've already lost...

No. I cannot dwell on her now.

"One final push!" I shout, forcing more power through my exhausted body.

The wind energy peaks, surging through my body, a life force traveling from my chest to my fingertips.

I lock eyes with Dakar and Phoebe, conveying my silent command.

As one, we channel our combined power outward in a devastating blast that finally shatters the fire wall.

The flames break apart in a violent expulsion of heat and wind, casting embers high into the sky like fallen stars.

"Now, Adelaide!" I call through parched lips.

Adelaide sweeps her arms in an elegant arc, pulling moisture from the air.

Thousands of snowflakes materialize, drifting down upon our scorched forms. Ice crystals kiss my burning skin, dissolving on contact.

Blessed relief washes through me as steam curls from my uniform.

I shudder involuntarily at the clash of fire and frost.

My knees buckle. The ground rises to meet me as my strength gives way. Around me, my comrades collapse in similar fashion, bodies spent from the extraordinary exertion.

Fragor bellows from nearby, anger pulsing through our bond. The emotion is confusing, but I don't have the energy to process it, so I block him. There's nothing that can help fill the void expanding within my chest, not even my dragon.

"We live," Cliffbecker states flatly, lying flat on his back, chest heaving.

Yes, we survived. But to what purpose? The flames we escaped pale against the conflagration consuming my thoughts. Each heartbeat echoes with the knowledge of her betrayal, each breath a reminder of her hand in Tahranis's.

My fingers curl into the earth, seeking purchase against the tide of emotion threatening to unmoor me. I can't falter now, can't show weakness when my riders need strength. I must contain the pain, control it like the elements we command.

Yet the vacant space where my heart once resided feels beyond my power to master. Rhealyn has taken something I can't replace, something I foolishly believed was mine to keep despite all the warnings.

I lift my gaze toward the ash-darkened heavens, searching for a glimpse of massive wings long since disappeared. Yes, I live, and my integrity is intact, but my heart lies elsewhere, carried away on primeval wings.

I should die from this. The ache in my chest isn't solely from smoke or heat. It's deeper, like my very essence has been carved out and incinerated. My lungs expand, but I can't seem to catch enough air. Death would be simpler than this hollowness.

A million emotions surge through, competing with each other.

There's rage, betrayal, confusion, longing.

Each demands to be acknowledged, yet I refuse them all.

Processing this would cripple me, and there's no room for that.

There's more to do. Always more. Along with a need for self-preservation.

I must not look back. It's the only way out.

I slowly push myself upright, ignoring the trembling in my limbs. My hands are an angry red, blistered in places where my power couldn't fully shield them from the flames. The wind kisses my face with cold fingers, making the tender skin smart and sting.

Numbly, I turn toward Emberton. Somewhere in that direction, Rhealyn flies with the Queen of Dragons and another man. The woman I love, the woman who chose another.