Orion Silverdrake stood on the balcony of his penthouse, the spark of his returning powers throbbing through his brain and body. He gazed up at the dark sky, at the last sliver of sunlight around the edge. Xander had done it.

As the heat of Orion’s dragon hit him, deep in the gut, he didn’t know whether to thank Xander or kill him. No. Xander was a psychopath.

The sound of the chaos below reverberated from the ground, even on the fortieth floor of his condo building. Orion knew that Xander craved a blood feast that would never end. He’d wanted it before the veil, and he would want it again.

Orion’s army, men in business suits with official titles, had tried to prevent the Dark Sun. But in the end, who could be trusted? How many immortals would see the return of power as too good a thing to pass up?

For two thousand years, the immortals had lived without access to the dimensions of power: a power many once called magic. The dragons had lived without their ability to shift into their true form. The vampires were unable to walk in the light. The only power left to either was their ability to influence the minds of men.

The rage still boiled in his throat. Even two thousand years later, Orion burned for Selene. His priestess, his beautiful shining mage. The legends often called her kind ‘witches’. But he knew better. He had been there. He knew what they’d sacrificed for humanity.

He turned from the darkness, his dragon eyes burning. His senses expanded, becoming more powerful. The sounds of chaos echoed up from the world below. Orion moved through the penthouse, his body fluid and supernaturally quick. As much as he opposed Xander, he reveled in the feeling of his true form. Inside his bedroom, he opened his safe, pulling out the communication devices he and his team developed based on ancient immortal technologies.

Unlike the human race, immortals would not be without power during this trying time of transition. Orion knew that if he wanted to live up to the love of his late Selene, he would have to protect humanity from Xander’s army, The Surge.

Orion shuddered at the thought of them. Xander’s Surge was a supernatural army of dragons and vampires, working together to take over the world. They were the reason the veil was cast in the first place. And even in a world without magic, The Surge had still found ways into power, prestige, and wealth beyond measure, always ready to cheat and swindle and lie.

Orion pressed his thumb to the clear glass pad and the screen lit up. He flipped through his contacts, brought up his brother’s name, and hit call. The device buzzed several times before Titus’s face popped up on the screen.

“Orion. We failed,” Titus said.

“What did you expect to happen?” Orion snapped.

“Even our team could not keep up with how quickly he developed his particle beam.”

“Have you fortified the city?” Orion asked.

“The world is in turmoil, there is little we can do until it runs its course.”

“And what of Xander and The Surge? Surely they will be taking their feed.”

“We’ve suspected for some time that his lab is in Denver. If that is correct, I’d surmise he will be gathering his forces there.”

“I will speak with you again when I reach the fortress,” Orion said.

“Aren’t you coming here, older brother? The clan expects you to rise as Alpha in this dark time.”

“I…need time. The feeling of Selene is in my bones. I will activate the fortress and contact you again.”

“We will need your help in St. Louis, Orion. The clan will not wait.”

“There is more at stake than the clan’s Alpha, Titus. The world just ended. Didn’t you notice?”

“That is exactly why you must address this issue now. Everything has changed. We need your leadership.”

“I’ll let you know,” Orion said with his best businessman voice as he swiped at his glass pad.

Orion heard the last startled squeak from his brother as his face disappeared from the screen. He couldn’t think about who should lead the Silverdrake clan right now. He’d shouldered that burden for three thousand years. All through the time of the veil and before it. He was tired. His heart ached for his lost love. Orion needed to be alone.

He approached the open door to his balcony. The sounds of screams and cries in the darkness below shot through the night. He stood on his balcony and let out a deep breath. He felt the magic deep inside him, burning like the ancient elemental fires of old. The dragon at the pit of his heart awakened, ready to fly into the dark world to bring back the light. For Selene.

He let out his breath and spread his arms. The magic coursed through his nerves, vibrating like high voltage electric lines. With a sharp cry, he threw his head back and shifted.

The cry became a roar as his body changed, too big to be contained on the penthouse patio. He jumped on agile feet to the railing, his immature wings flapping out of his back. His sharp teeth grew in his mouth and he roared again, hurtling himself off the patio. He flapped his wings, still too small to hold him aloft. With a surge of power, his body fully shifted. His dragon form grew to the size of a large city bus. He trumpeted his call as he swooped over downtown Los Angeles.

Orion was alive again. In his right form. His heart just about burst with exhilaration. Oh, how he’d missed the feeling of air under his wings. He drifted over the darkened city, smelling the toxic fires. The burning cars and houses were the only things keeping the world alight. So many would die tonight and in the coming days. Days that would be filled with darkness and dread.

His soul grew heavy with the weight of it. The joy of his dragon lost in the sea of despair of human suffering. His Selene sacrificed herself to free the humans from the tyranny of The Surge. He was glad she would never know that her sacrifice had been for nothing.

Even during those two thousand years without magic, The Surge stopped at nothing to bring misery to humanity. They couldn’t operate out in the open. No, the new weapon of choice was manipulation and illusion, hypnosis, mass mind control, subversion of government funds for black ops research. And they’d won.

His poor Selene. His shining priestess. The woman branded a witch by the ages. She’d died for the sins of The Surge. Her sacrifice had been wasted. Orion shed a tear of sorrow. It dropped from his eye, tumbling down to the ground as he flew north. Daggers of existential darkness sliced his heart. The only thing keeping him from utter despair was the thought that she could be out there, somewhere.