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ERYSS

T he return to the stronghold should be easy.

Naranus is silent, his expression unreadable as he flies low over the jagged cliffs, his wings slicing through the air with controlled precision. His arms are locked around me, his grip firm but impersonal, like he’s already buried whatever strange shift had settled between us back in the human village.

I try not to think about it.

I try not to dwell on the way they spoke to him, the way they looked at him like a guardian rather than a beast. It doesn’t make sense.

None of this makes sense.

I push away the thoughts, keeping my focus ahead, counting the ridges of stone below as they race past beneath us. We should reach the stronghold soon. We should be safe.

A shift in the air.

The wind thickens, no longer smooth but choked with something heavier, more charged.

Naranus curses, his arms tightening around me as his head snaps to the side.

The first arrow strikes.

He jerks, the force of it ripping through the membrane of his wing, embedding itself in the flesh just near his shoulder.

His snarl is like breaking stone.

The sky around us erupts.

Figures emerge from the cliffs, hidden within the jagged crevices, their dark wings folding open like specters against the sky. At least six of them, moving fast, moving with intent.

Rogue gargoyles.

Naranus doesn’t hesitate.

He tilts mid-air, his massive body twisting as another arrow whistles past his head, narrowly missing us. He banks left, trying to outrun them, but they’re already too close.

Another arrow flies.

Another strike to his wing.

This time, the damage is worse.

His balance wavers, his breath rough against my ear, but he keeps flying, his body fighting against the wound like it’s nothing more than an inconvenience.

I can’t do anything.

I have no magic. No power.

I can’t even pull a damn dagger without risking him losing control mid-air.

I twist in his hold, trying to catch a glimpse of the attackers. The leader is the closest, his wings beating hard, his eyes locked on Naranus like a predator with a kill in sight.

“You should have stayed in your crumbling stronghold, Alpha,” the gargoyle snarls. “You’re not fit to lead anymore.”

"Then come take my throne, coward," Naranus growls back, voice ripping through the wind like a blade.

The rogue lunges but Naranus is faster.

His wings snap inward, cutting through the air like a missile, diving lower, forcing them to chase us through the maze of stone.

I feel the strain in his muscles, the tremor in his grip. He’s bleeding too much.

He won’t make it back.

Another rogue dives from above.

I barely have time to react before claws rake across Naranus’s back, tearing into flesh. His body jerks.

We drop.

The world tilts, my stomach flipping violently as the sky falls away.

Naranus tries to catch himself, his wings flaring in desperate resistance, but he can’t.

He’s losing control.

We’re falling.

I hear him snarl in frustration, his hold on me tightening, his body twisting mid-air to shield me as we crash into the rocky terrain below.

The impact shatters through me.

We hit hard, rolling over jagged stone and loose gravel, Naranus taking the worst of it, his massive form bracing me from the worst of the fall. The moment we stop moving, I shove up onto my elbows, my head spinning.

He’s already moving.

Already forcing himself to his feet, blood slicking his back, his wing torn.

“We need to go,” he rasps, eyes wild, breath heavy. “They’ll be on us soon.”

I push myself up, legs shaking, trying to steady my balance. “You can’t fly,” I say, stating the obvious, my heart hammering.

His golden eyes lock onto mine. "Then we run."

A shadow passes over us.

They’re still hunting.

Still searching.

Naranus grabs my wrist, dragging me toward the rocky outcroppings beyond. He’s injured, but he doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t falter, moving as if the pain is nothing but a minor inconvenience.

I struggle to keep up, my breath ragged, my body aching, but I push forward, matching his pace.

We run.

Through the twisting caverns of stone, through the winding trails that lead further away from the stronghold.

Further from safety.

But there’s no other option.

Behind us, I can hear the wingbeats of the rogues, their low snarls of frustration as they search.

They can’t see us.

Not yet.

Naranus drags me into a narrow crevice, pressing his back against the stone, his chest rising and falling with sharp, controlled breaths. I flatten against the opposite wall, trying to steady my own racing pulse.

The voices of the rogues drift closer.

“She has to be dead.”

“If she was, we’d see her body.”

"Then find them."

I grip the stone beneath my fingers, my nails digging in.

Silence stretches between us, thick, charged. I glance up at Naranus, his molten gaze locked onto me. His face is unreadable, his body rigid, his mind already calculating our next move.

We are too far.

Too lost.

I don’t know how we’ll get back.