The sound of breaking glass, followed by an angry hiss and thunderous thump, snapped Farrah’s attention behind her. She whirled around just in time to see Arsenic tumbling backward down the stairs, collapsing into a writhing heap at the bottom, one hand grasping at something on his back.

Worry surged through Farrah, and she rushed down the steps, kneeling beside him, trying desperately to figure out what was happening.

The Arsenic she knew could never have simply tripped and fallen. Was he having a seizure or something?

“Nic? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” she asked, her training as a nurse kicking in to try and assess the situation.

He didn’t respond for a moment, spasming as he continued to reach behind him. She glanced and saw a small object sticking out of him just as his fingers found the thing and ripped it away. It didn’t take a second glance to realize it was a small dart.

But where had it come from?

“There, got it,” he grated out. “Fuck. That hurts.”

Farrah was about to respond when she saw movement in the periphery of her vision. She looked up to the other end of the living room, where she saw a blond-haired figure coming in through the open window, a small metal weapon in his hand.

Instantly, Farrah’s blood froze in her veins, fear gripping her with iron tendrils as nightmares and memories flooded her mind at the sight of him.

Crios.

He came into the house with surprising ease despite his size, putting the gun into the pocket of his white lab coat. His hair was slightly mussed, strands escaping from their usually slicked position. And his coat, always pristine white, was dusty with spots of brown here and there.

But his cold blue eyes were as cruel and unfeeling as ever. And as his gaze fell to meet hers, Farrah’s heart stopped, her breath clenching into a tight ball in her chest.

“Farrah. So good to see you again,” he said, his lips curling into an ominous smile.

“You. You must be the bastard that—” Arsenic’s words were cut off as he tried to roll onto his side. But as he attempted to prop himself up onto his feet, he collapsed again, hitting the floor.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Crios said, moving toward them, “That’s concentrated wyvern venom running through your veins. My own personal concoction. Trying to move will only make it work faster.” The sound of his voice was still as icy and clinical as she remembered.

And each step he came closer, the more Farrah wanted to run, wanted to hide, be anywhere except here. But she couldn’t. Arsenic was in trouble.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting for this. I can’t possibly bear to wait another moment,” Crios said, stopping a few feet from her. “Now that your oracle is gone, it’s just you and me.”

From Farrah’s position, kneeling next to Arsenic, Crios’s height was only that much more intimidating. Even though he was small compared to Arsenic, he was so much bigger than she was. So much stronger. What could she possibly do?

Suddenly, Arsenic pushed himself off the ground and onto his feet and reached into his shirt. Three daggers flew at Crios in a flash, whistling through the air and pounding into his chest. But to Farrah’s utter shock, they bounced off or shattered into several pieces, clanging onto the ground at Crios’s feet.

Crios gave a heartless laugh as Arsenic fell to one knee, the poison from the dart sapping his strength.

“Arsenic!” Farrah cried out, coming to his side.

“I’m fine. I’m resistant to poisons. This is nothing,” he growled. But Farrah could see the veins at his temples and neck starting to turn a greenish purple. And his skin was getting paler by the second, thick beads of sweat forming on his brow.

“You know, I have you to thank for this,” Crios said, his attention turning to Arsenic. Arsenic glared up at him, unable to move.

Crios pulled open his shirt, revealing a silver-colored mesh. “Your attack at the castle gave me more information about your kind. Especially how to prepare to face you.”

Arsenic tried to stand but managed to only move a few inches before slumping again to his knees.

Farrah had to call an ambulance. Call the police. Do anything.

“And given the very interesting effects of your poison, my master will be very pleased with me when I bring home an escaped human and the corpse of the Arsenic dragon.”

“I’ll never let you do that,” Arsenic said through gritted teeth, his hand grasping at his chest, the veins in his arm throbbing.

“Charming sentiment, but futile. No dragon can survive wyvern poison. Its very purpose is to destroy. You’ll succumb in no time at all,” Crios said, gloating.

With that, he strode toward Farrah, ignoring Arsenic completely and stooping slightly as his cloudy blue eyes pierced through her.

“Come now. It’s time to go,” he ordered, reaching out his hand toward her.

Arsenic tried to mutter something, tried to move, but it was futile. Farrah’s mind raced for any possible idea when she felt a small lump in the pocket of her sweater. Instantly, she recognized the shape of the dagger Arsenic had given her the night they went clubbing, still in its sheath.

“This is the last time I’m going to ask,” Crios reiterated, calmness quickly fading.

Slowly, Farrah stood up, heart racing like a jet plane. Crios lowered his hand, grinning at her apparent cooperation. As subtly as she could manage, Farrah pulled the dagger from its sheath in her pocket, gripping the cold handle in her right hand, her palms sweaty and trembling.

“Obedient. Lovely,” Crios said, eyebrows slightly raised.

When she was only a couple feet away, and as Crios began to turn to lead her toward the door, she drew the blade and lunged at Crios with all her strength. With lightning reflexes, Crios whirled on her, raising his hand to strike. But he was just barely too slow as the dagger slashed upward, slicing Crios’s cheek.

A microsecond later, the back of Crios’s hand connected with Farrah’s face like a freight train, and everything went white for a moment as she was thrown off her feet and onto the ground.

Sharp pain lanced through her as she tried to recover, tried to find the dagger that had been flung free of her grip from the blow. But even sitting up was difficult as the entire world swirled around her.

“You bitch. How dare you defy me,” Crios growled, touching his hand to his cheek and noting the blood on his fingers with surprise. “No matter. I’ve been immunizing myself for every possible contingency for years. The antitoxins in my blood should be—”

But his words were cut off by a loud yelp as he fell backward, bumping into the kitchen table, struggling against what seemed to be horrific agony coursing through him.

Arsenic. She had to get to Arsenic.

“Are you all right?” Farrah heard Arsenic’s voice next to her. She turned to the sound, still stunned, and saw him standing over her, swaying on his feet. But in spite of his shocking uprightness, his green eyes were starting to glaze over, and the green in his veins was more purple and turning blue in other places.

Farrah moved to get up, grabbing Arsenic’s outstretched hand and feeling herself pulled onto her feet.

“Get safe and call for help,” he said, forcing his phone into her hands clumsily. “I’ll take care of this guy.”

“But what about you?” Farrah asked desperately.

“I’ll be fine. This is my job,” he said, turning to face Crios, who was still writhing about but seemingly beginning to get control of himself.

“Time to pay, asshole,” Arsenic said, barely speaking above a whisper as he turned to face Crios, clearing the distance between them in several steps.

“Just because the antitoxin isn’t working as expected doesn’t mean your poison is lethal to me,” Crios spat angrily.

“Maybe not. But I still am,” Arsenic replied darkly. In a blur of motion, his fist rocketed forward, slamming Crios in the jaw and sending him careening into the wall, cracking it.

Without hesitating, Arsenic reached his right hand out to his side, and Farrah watched as a gigantic sword materialized from nothing, earth-toned with rusted, burnt-looking edges.

But no sooner had the blade finished appearing than Arsenic’s grip loosened and the sword fell to the ground with a loud clang.

“Fuck!” Arsenic snarled, gripping his arm with his other hand, entire body straining in pain, as if the poison came and went in waves. And right now, it was threatening to drown him.

Crios, stunned for a moment from the impact, saw the opening and rushed at Arsenic. Arsenic raised a hand but was unable to stop Crios as he drove his knee into Arsenic’s face, sending him flying onto his back.

Crios came forward again but staggered back as he howled in anguish, digging his fingers into his shoulders from the pain.

Farrah’s mind was starting to clear, and she quickly opened the first text conversation on Arsenic’s phone and typed the word “help” and hit send. She didn’t even know who it was, but hopefully, it was someone that could do something.

Because Arsenic was dying.

Slowly, Arsenic got back to his feet, struggling for a moment as if he were drunk, then stepped forward. With a swift upward kick, he slammed Crios in the groin with his leg, so hard Crios lifted off the ground for a moment before plummeting into the table, shattering it into splinters.

Crios tried to get up, But Arsenic was on top of him, grabbing his throat with one hand and pounding him in the face with the other, over and over and over. The impact was so loud it made the plates and cups in the cupboards rattle; the house shook so much.

“Die. Mother. Fucker,” Arsenic rasped, his punches slowing gradually as his energy ran out. Crios was bleeding everywhere, barely moving beneath him as Arsenic stood up, took a strained breath, and walked over to where his gigantic blade lay on the ground.

Then, with great effort, he grabbed the handle and, unable to pick it up fully, he dragged it behind him until he was standing over Crios.

“At least I get to end your sorry ass before I croak,” Arsenic muttered with resigned satisfaction, groaning as he hefted the sword onto his shoulder, ready to strike the final blow.

But just as he was about to let it fall, a bright-purple vortex opened up before them. Arsenic stepped back, putting himself between Farrah and the swirling mass as a tall woman stepped out of it, appearing from nowhere.

She was as tall as Arsenic, with a striking face with deep lines and long, black hair. The robe she wore shimmered in metallic gray and silver and deep purple.

Everything about her said “dragon,” except her gaze that bespoke pure cruelty and viciousness. The deep wine-purple of her irises darted up at Arsenic, then down to Crios. Immediately, her lips were pulled in a disdainful frown as she appraised the bloodied wolf at her feet.

“Finally found you, Crios.” Her words were like ice in Farrah’s soul, dominant and commanding.

It made Crios seem like a pet puppy in comparison.

“Master. You’ve come to save me!” Crios said hopefully, sitting up and coming to his knees before her.

“No. I’m here to tie up a loose end. You.”

“I have so much more to show you. New research, new inventions. Recent discoveries I’ve made…” He cowered before her like a worm.

“I tire of your failures, wolf,” she said. With shocking strength, she snatched him off the ground, holding Crios as if he weighed nothing.

“Please, master. I won’t fail you again. Mercy,” he begged, writhing futilely in her grip, his feet dangling off the ground.

The woman hesitated for a moment, watching him struggle, then reached out her other hand and snapped her fingers. Instantly, bright yellow light filled the room as Crios burst into white-hot flame.

Farah’s mind could barely comprehend it as he was reduced to ashes in seconds, nothing but a small pile of gray at the woman’s feet.

Then the woman brushed off her hands and looked at Arsenic, raising an eyebrow as if she’d forgotten he was there.