With Esania’s glorious energy roaring through his vir-channels, Imril flew over dark plains and valleys and moonlight-touched streams. He hated the thought of leaving her alone even for a moment, but Za’s hells, he was spread thin.

Nykithus’s sudden appearance had reminded him how vulnerable their position was. Right now, the eyrie was unguarded, and he didn’t like that at all, but Rau had strict instructions to take the humans into the underground vault at the first sign of danger.

He’d inspected the vault thoroughly, and it was in good working order, connected to two escape tunnels that ran beneath the lake, emerging in secluded thickets on the other side. When it came to defense, Auka technology was infallible.

Hopefully, Esania would never have to use the vault. He would try and get this done as quickly as possible.

Za’s burning hells, this was not his way of doing things, but Imril had no choice. He had to strike first, to find a way to eliminate the threat before Nykithus found them.

In order to do that, he needed information, and Mael was the only one who could tell him what had happened to the world in his absence.

His brother was as old as he, his existence a mere drop in the lifetime of this planet, but an eternity in the history of their race.

Could he be flying into a trap?

No, Mael had his chance to kill him already. Mael had his chance to take Esania and Sara, and he’d left them in Imril’s care.

And Mael would never, ever side with the likes of Nykithus. Mael was a loner, rarely venturing out of his mysterious domain in the frozen southern pole of Khira.

But something had drawn him out, and clearly, he needed Imril’s power.

What are you planning, brother of mine?

Imril didn’t trust Mael, but right now, he needed him too. How ironic that they were once again forced together—out of necessity. He gritted his teeth. For Esania’s sake, he would lay aside old vendettas and work with his twin.

For her sake.

She didn’t know it yet, but she was his lukara—his mate. In the ashes of his empire, Imril had finally found his One, but there was no way he could mate with her unless she accepted his elgida. He would kill her otherwise.

What was it that his old friend Tykhe had told him once? Tykhe, who had been happily mated to a Vradhu female, who had given his mate the most stunningly intricate elgida, who was the proud father of two healthy Drakhin sons, had thought to advise him on the finer points of mating.

That was such a long time ago, but he remembered it like it was yesterday. They’d just come from a sparring session, and Tykhe was nursing a vicious cut above his left eyebrow.

As usual, Imril didn’t have a scratch on him.

“Ah, Lord Imril, you invulnerable bastard. You’re more vicious today than usual. What’s gotten into you? Maybe you just need to go and get laid.”

Imril shot him a baleful look. “Don’t you start, Tykhe.”

“It will happen, Imril. You might think you’re all-powerful now, Overlord, but someday, a female will come along, and she will make you feel like burning your empire to the ground just to have her. You may think you will always be in control, but it will happen quickly, without warning, like a lightning flare from the sky. And you will know without a shadow of a doubt, that she is the One, your one and only lukara, because you won’t be able to go a moment without thinking of her.” Tykhe laughed. “I can’t wait to see you brought to your knees by a female, brother. You might think I’m mad, but one day, you will understand.”

But Tykhe was long gone, having left the planet on an Auka escape ship, and he would never meet the female to whom Imril had pledged his elgida.

Ah, how he missed the bastard. He really could have used Tykhe’s advice right now.

Anger rose up in him as he soared over undulating hills that merged into sand dunes. His body crackled with pent-up energy as he crossed a wide beach and flew over the wild sea. In the distance, a storm raged, spitting lightning from thick black clouds.

He was at perhaps half his full strength now, still hungry, still furious, still horny as fuck, driven half-mad with the thought that he was doing this to himself. Really, he could take Esania at any time. He could force the elgida upon her if he wanted to.

But that would be futile.

How could he live with a mate who didn’t trust him? She’d already ruined him for vir—he just couldn’t stomach the thought of feeding from another—and he selfishly demanded her subservience.

Yet he wanted more.

Consumed with thoughts of Esania, Imril flew on until at last he saw what he was looking for.

There.

The darkness below changed, becoming absolute. Not a single ray of moonlight or starlight penetrated here. This was perfect darkness, even darker than the night itself, completely obliterating any sight of the vast Kingdom of Ton Malhur.

The shadowveil was impressive.

And there was only one being on all of Khira who could construct such a thing.

Twisting his body, angling his wings, Imril caught a downward current and dropped toward the impenetrable darkness. He landed on a windswept rocky outcrop bordered by half-dead grasses and weeds. Power flared from his hands, snapping and crackling against the blackness and silence, the only sign of life in the forlorn, forsaken place.

The Vakarin plains.

The edge of the Mountain Kingdom.

Just as Esania had told him.

Slowly, Imril folded his wings, sat down, and waited for Chaos.