Nyxara Rising
Kael roared, already drenched in blood that smoked on his skin—definitely not human.
Rowan pressed close on her other side, eyes aglow with silver, veins thrumming with ancient magic. “They’re unraveling the ley lines. If they finish—”
“They won’t,” Nyxara replied, voice granite-steady, though the world vibrated beneath her feet.
Perhaps too steady.
Corpses littered the ground: wolves, soldiers, creatures conjured from the collective nightmare of a thousand ruined worlds. Fire raged above, magic detonated in sickening bursts, and the scent of blood—metallic, holy in its thickness—swallowed every breath.