Page 40

That’s when it hit.

A gust of air—not wind. Not natural.

Magic.

Dark, sharp, slicing through the stillness.

“Lyra—!” Milo yowled.

But she didn’t have time to move.

A blast of energy slammed into the earth inches from her boots, sending her flying back into the grass. Her breath left her in a rush. Her vision danced with sparks.

Milo hissed and darted to her side.

From the shadows, the airshifted.

Something watched.

Something surged.

Another pulse but this one hotter, wilder and it crackled toward her. She raised her hands instinctively, her own magic flaring up in defense.

But it didn’t land.

Because suddenly,hewas there.

Jace.

A wall of heat and muscle and growling fury as he threw himself between her and the blast. The magic hit him dead-on, rippling off his skin in a shield of amber light that shimmered like a promise.

“Stay behind me,” he barked.

Lyra could barely breathe.

He’d wrapped an arm across her shoulders, pulling her tight against him, his chest heaving, his eyes glowing that eerie storm-gray she’d only seen when his wolf peeked through.

“You’re bleeding,” she whispered.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re—!”

“I said I’m fine.”

With a snarl that made the trees shudder, he turned toward the source of the attack.

The darkness pulsed again—once, then twice—and vanished like a thread cut loose from the weave.

Gone.

Jace stood tense for several heartbeats longer, then slowly lowered his arms. His breath came heavy. Controlled.

Only then did he look down at her.

“Are you hurt?”

“I—I’m okay,” she said, voice barely a whisper.