The Dragon Slayer's Queen
The twins stand, swaying, taking inventory of limbs and wounds.
A shadow falls over them. At first, Zayla thinks it’s just the afterimage of the storm, but the shadow moves—alive, angry, massive. She looks up, and the world splits again.
Liam. Or what’s left of him.
He’s in complete dragon form now, with obsidian scales tight as armor and a wingspan blotting out the stars. The amber pattern along his flanks is sick with new light, and every marking shoots through with pain and willpower. Zayla almost laughs: He’d save his final shift for a lost cause.