With the vault’s three massive seals completely burned through, Imril strode down the corridor, his incandescent aura lighting up the cavernous space. Still there was no sign of Nykithus, and not a single Naaga in sight. The stillness was unnerving, even for him.

In other circumstances, the silence might have given him pause, but he had no choice now.

Keep moving. Finish this.

The shadowveil was failing, Mael was going mad, and he had to destroy this abomination of a city before its inhabitants ventured into the outside world and ruined everything, before they went after the vir-rich humans.

Nykithus thought he was the Overlord now?

Imril growled, and the walls around him cracked as his aura flared.

Enough.

He would kill the bastard.

This ended now.

“Nykithus!” he roared, losing patience. “Show yourself, or I will burn your fucking eyrie to the ground.”

He didn’t want to kill the Naaga servants if he could avoid it—they were innocents, after all—but if he had to, he would.

As he rounded a corner, reaching a pair of wide double doors that were decorated with ornate but meaningless stars—hundreds of them, polished so brightly they glittered as if they were in the night sky—he felt a tug at the edge of his consciousness.

Esania.

Her pull was intoxicating, as always. Although their link was faint, she reached out to him, seeking him out with an intensity that made him want to go to her immediately, drop to his knees, and give her his world.

She was his lukara, truly.

If only they could do mindspeech.

But that would come later, when their bond was stronger.

Her presence gave him strength. He was doing this not just for revenge, but for Esania and her people… even for the surly Vradhu, who had good reason to despise him.

For the first time in a very long time, Imril wanted to protect his tribe.

Esania had put him to shame, had shown him what loyalty meant. Against impossible odds, she’d never given up. Even when he’d offered her sanctuary and safety, she’d never forgotten about her people.

Brave, wily Esania. How had she even convinced him to take her back to the forest?

I’m going to finish this, Esania, for you.

This was a remnant of his old life; a consequence of the corruption that lay beneath the deceptively grand surface of his empire. A terrible, familiar emptiness crept into his soul. The Drakhin were an abomination, and this world of theirs… it never should have existed.

He would destroy it before its dark tentacles had a chance to touch her.

He, the tyrant; brutal, all-powerful, despised by his own people… betrayed by the one closest to him.

And now beholden to another.

You are not going to fuck this one up.

Imril slammed his palm against the doors, channelling his power, superheating the metal until it glowed white-hot.

Unexpectedly, they swung open.

Without hesitation, he stepped inside.

And froze.