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Nïx waved to another contingent—the Sorceri. Portia rolled her eyes, still disgusted she was cooperating with the good guys, and dropped her mountain atop the screen, blocking the portal. As the dragon scrambled to stop, Emberine lit up the creature, who roared with frustration.

Baring his fangs at Nïx, he raised his gaze to the sky and spread his immense wings to fly away.

His chest was unprotected. His heart ready for the taking.

Cara dove from on high, her fire wings sparkling. Air whistled from her supernatural descent as she barreled into the dragon.

His back hit the ground, the momentum driving him across the dirt. His wings plowed a trench, with Cara along for the ride atop his expansive chest. He met gazes with her and froze for a critical moment—which was all the witches needed to mystically bind him to the earth with their spells.

His heart.Herheart. Cara.

Nïx’s vision of the past returned. A blink of an eye ago, Cara had been a somber little girl. . . .

She asked Nïx, “What is our future? Will Furie and I always be together?”

Nïx swallowed. “You shall both do what is expected of you.”

Furie said, “Of course we shall. Our kind are warriors, born of fire, desperate to return to it in the course of our duties.”

“You were born oflightning,dearest ones. It’s a bright sort of fire.” In her next breath, Nïx spoke her inner thoughts aloud: “I love you both so much, and yet I will let you suffer.”

Watchful gazes. They asked as one: “Why?”

“I see songs in my flesh and hear stars in the daylit sky. Is that madness? Or delight?”

They weren’t to be put off, repeating, “Why?”

“Because,” Nïx whispered. “That is what I do?—”

“Sister!” Cara called.

The vision faltered, and Nïx blinked back to the present. “Yes?”

“He’s bound.” Cara swiped blood from her emotionless face. It must be hers. Or a mortal’s. The dragon hadn’t lost a drop.

Nïx took in the felled beast. He thrashed against the witches’ invisible bonds, but this coven was crushing it tonight, and didn’t those sassy Wiccans justknowit?

Standing beside their foe with a plain wooden staff, Cara asked Nïx, “Do you want to do the honors?”

She tapped her chin with a claw. “No. He is all yours, Carafina.”

“What madness is this, Valkyrie?” he yelled. “You can’t kill me. I’m a dragon.”

“Poor creature.” Nïx tsked. “You’ve been in this form so long you’ve forgotten that you aren’t a real dragon. You’re ashifter.”

“My scales are impenetrable!”

“Theywere,” Cara said as she held up the staff, empowering it. A blade of jet-black flames emerged, transforming it intoa scythe, one that had already felled the primordial demon. Though the flames were dark they somehow emitted light.

Uthyr’s eyes went wide, his struggles increasing. “I’m still a primordial. One drop of my blood will annihilate you all. You can’t kill me!”

“Relax,” Nïx said. “Cara doesn’t want to kill you. She just wants your heart.”

Uthyr’s rows of fangs glinted in the light of the weapon, his pupils narrowing even more. “Do not do this, or you’ll face hell. The Møriør won’t just retaliate—they will punish you beyond imagining.” Uthyr thrashed harder.

But the witches intensified their oothspeak to sedate him.

Without blinking her cold eyes, Cara stabbed the blade deep into Uthyr’s chest, sinking past his supposedly invulnerable scales. The flame cauterized as it cut, and the coven’s incantations neutralized any drops of primordial blood that might escape.