They were being followed. Imril cursed softly under his breath as he detected a presence at the edge of his awareness. He held Esania tightly, wrapping his arms across her chest, soaking in her intoxicating vir, although when he wore his scale-armor, he could only drink in a faint trickle.

Not wanting to alarm her, he simply increased his speed, sending a flow of power through his body. He rose higher, higher, until he reached the point where he could go no further without Esania passing out—the air was too thin up here.

“Imril?” she whispered, her voice barely audible above the rush of the wind. “What’s going on?”

“Don’t worry,” he murmured, bringing his wings behind him in a streamlined V. He pushed more power through his body, creating a halo of energy around himself and Esania.

If he were on his own, he would double back immediately and go after their stalker, but he had Esania to think about, and he absolutely could not be reckless with her safety.

Suddenly, it dawned on him. This fragile creature was completely dependent on him for protection.

He’d emerged from Za’s crater broken, desperate, and defeated, only to find purpose in the form of this delicate human.

Oh, she might be delicate, but she was whip-smart, too. What she lacked in strength, she made up for in cunning.

The fact that he was here in the skies, carrying out her bidding… that was a miracle in itself.

“Something’s happening, isn’t it?” Her voice was perfectly calm as Imril veered sharply and caught a swift wind current. “But you don’t want to scare me, huh? It’s okay, Imril. I’m torn between needing to know every minute detail and letting go completely, but I trust you. I’m just going to close my eyes and let you handle this. It’s not how I usually operate, but—”

“You are safe with me,” he said fiercely as he held her tightly. So strong was his desire to protect her that he didn’t even have to think about it. “I’m going to get you home, Esania.”

Whoosh.

Something shot overhead, a white and silver blur that reflected a flash of sunlight. Imril knew that outline…

Another Drakhin.

Moving very, very fast.

He could go faster if he wanted, but he didn’t want to risk it with Esania in his arms.

His heart pounded. A powerful desire to kill rose up inside him, but he restrained himself, mindful of his precious cargo. “I need your vir, Esania.”

“Take it. Even if I pass out, just take what you need.”

This female. Her instant awareness of the situation and her unconditional trust humbled him to the core. Just like that, she disarmed him completely.

He could never be cruel to this sweet thing.

Never.

But to their enemies, he would be a nightmare.

He stripped off his scale-glove and curled his fingers around her neck, relishing the instant torrent of power that flowed into him.

Esania gasped.

Below them, the world flew by, becoming a blue and green blur.

He drank from her quickly, becoming intoxicated with power, feeling so fiercely protective that he felt his heart might burst.

“Hold on,” he whispered, tucking her head into his chest with his other hand.

A shimmering speck appeared in the distance, coming straight for them. As it neared, he caught the glint of sunlight on its silver helm. The bastard was taunting him, trying to draw him into an attack.

Imril refused to take the bait. He summoned power into his right arm, concentrating pure energy in the palm of his hand, holding it as far away from Esania as possible.

The Drakhin streaked past, wings outstretched, body straight like a spear. Despite his formidable speed, Imril wasn’t worried about being hit by a stray bolt of power. This Drakhin didn’t radiate power, because he couldn’t.

Only Imril and Mael—the first generation—possessed that ability. The Ancestor had made them in his image; closer to gods than mortal beings. Acheros had created them in a lab, fusing his genetic material with their mother’s.

A completely unnatural process.

But something had gone wrong. Imril and Mael were immensely powerful, but they were also sterile.

That’s why Acheros had created the second generation. The silver ones couldn’t even match him in power, but they could reproduce directly with Vradhu females producing live offspring.

A new, viable race.

A monster like Imril… he wasn’t even supposed to exist.

But he did, and he was going to use every shred of his cursed power to protect this human.

Imril stared into the distance, searching for their stalker, but a thick bank of clouds obscured his vision, hiding the other Drakhin.

“You’re an abomination, Imril,” a voice called from above. Above the rush of the wind, it was terribly faint, but he recognized it instantly. Nykithus the Betrayer. He was flying above, keeping pace with Imril. “This little creature thinks she can trust you? Keep trying. Sooner or later, she’ll realize what a monster you are, and when she is living every moment in fear, she will think of nothing but escape.”

Rage coursed through him, but he suppressed it, mindful of Esania. Bound tightly against him with loops of sulak, she stiffened, and he caught a trace of fear in her vir.

Why? he wanted to ask Nykithus, but he needed to shake the bastard off quickly. This was too risky.

Why did you destroy our world?

“If you don’t want to get incinerated, then leave,” he thundered, raising his hand.

Laughter drifted down to him on the wind; high-pitched, deranged, hateful laughter. “You haven’t changed, Lightbringer. Still blind as fuck.”

Imril didn’t react. Instead, he closed his eyes, listening intently.

The rush of wind.

A body hurtling through the sky.

There.

He clutched Esania tightly with one arm and inverted, coasting on his back for a heartbeat.

Boom!

He released the power from his right hand and heard a satisfying scream of pain.

Got you, you little shit.

He opened his eyes and saw Nykithus clearly for the first time. Clad in silver scale-armor, his wings outstretched, the Drakhin hadn’t changed at all.

Clutching his side, Nykithus pulled out a long blade and dropped into a dive. “I can’t kill you, but I can destroy your Source,” he roared.

No. You will not! Imril inverted again, banking sharply, performing an act of flying that defied the laws of physics.

Esania cried out in fear, but she didn’t squirm, didn’t try and fight his body’s momentum.

Imril thought about hurling another bolt in Nykithus’s direction, but decided against it, channelling what was left of his power into the slipstream. He needed all the speed he could get.

Whoosh!

As Nykithus dropped, Imril shot up into the thick clouds, both arms curled tightly around Esania. She curled into his chest, radiating fear, disbelief, and above all, trust.

Cool mist hit them, and suddenly, they were flying through thick clouds.

Faster!

These were rain clouds, pregnant with moisture, soaking them in water. Imril curled himself around Esania as much as possible, shielding her from the fat droplets of water, which felt like tiny pellets when they hit at such high velocity.

He cut a torturous path, one that would make it impossible for Nykithus to follow them. Lightning flashed in the distance, followed by the ominous growl of thunder.

Esania tensed.

“He won’t catch us,” he rumbled, and unable to resist himself, he planted a gentle kiss on her head, inhaling the soft scent of her hair.

She nodded, and Imril flew on, abandoning his first instinct—which was to turn around, find Nykithus, and kill him.

There would be time for that later.

But first, he had to get Esania to safety.