“A kyriv,” she answered, breathless and panting. “From the north. From the Kaazor.”

“What about the villagers?” I asked. “Your mother! Kalia!”

“The Kyzaire will cut it off before it reaches Laras. But he won’t be able to battle if he’s worried about you, Gemma!”

Battle? I thought, my blood running cold.

I swallowed the huge knot in my throat just as we burst from the shaded, cobbled road, only to find Zaale hurtling toward us from the keep.

“Get inside,” he ordered me. “Ludayn, take her up to her rooms and—”

“No, I need to make sure that he’s okay,” I argued, already striding past him. The observation tower in the south wing—I would be able to see Azur from there. I would be able to see the kyriv from there.

I sprinted, nearly knocking over keepers in my path, cursing my lack of wings in this enormous keep. For the first time, I was jealous of the Kylorr.

“Gemma!” Ludayn called after me, but I paid her no mind. My legs were pumping. My lungs were tight as I raced up seemingly endless flights of stairs and down long corridors. But finally, I made it up to the south tower, bursting into the circular, empty, dusty room.

I went out on the balcony, gripping the banister as I peered south.

A gasp escaped my lips at what I saw, a thread of surprising terror winding its way into my chest, gripping my heart.

Azur was fighting the kyriv.

High in the sky over the lore field, though I saw Azur trying to draw the kyriv away from the village. There was a rider on the winged dragon’s back—another Kylorr, dressed in black garments and riding low, holding on to what looked like chains.

A Kaazor? They could control the kyriv?

The kyriv swooped low, heading for the lore field, his clawed talons unfurling from underneath him. They wanted to destroy it, I realized, my heart pumping. They wanted to destroy it just before the harvest.

Azur was there, the gauntlets he wore on his forearms flashing in the morning light. I’d always wondered why he wore them when he left the keep. Now I knew why. How many kyriv had he faced before?

The blades extended from his gauntlets, long and terrible and wickedly sharp. A muted roar, an aching screech shook the land as the kyriv felt Azur’s blades. They sliced long lines down the beast’s chest as Azur flew beneath him, quicker than I could blink. Black blood leaked over the land as the kyriv veered, retreating back from the field, though still near the outer walls.

Azur shot up into the sky until he was blocked out by the rising sun. The way he moved was incredible. Different. I watched as he hurtled straight over the kyriv, dropping vertically so he could dislodge the Kaazor rider.

A burst of sound came from behind me as Ludayn finally reached me.

She joined me on the balcony, her lips parting, her eyes widening at what she saw.

“Raazos’s blood,” she whispered, her gaze flitting to me. “He’s in a rage. Because of you.”

Because of me?

A rage?

I froze, my eyes swinging back to my husband. Was that why he was moving so fast? Or why he’d been able to pierce the thick hide of the kyriv with just his gauntlets? As I watched his closer, I saw what I couldn’t see before.

He was larger. Much, much larger. The seams of his clothes were ripped. Even his wings seemed like they’d grown.

I thought back to the carvings in the hallway. The Kylorr were berserkers at their very core. It was what made them so dangerous, because they could tap into unfathomable strength.

And Azur had just released his.

The kyriv was going to die.

Now I knew why Ludayn hadn’t been worried about her mother. About the village.

Because she’d known that Azur would protect it. His home. His territory. His family’s keep.

Perhaps the kyriv or its rider didn’t realize their own doom because I watched as they tried to press forward into Laras, circling back over the lore field and making for the village. The giant shadow of it spread below, so dark that it looked like a stain on the land, until I realized that it was its own blood.

But Azur didn’t let it advance toward Laras. I watched with bated breath as my husband tangled with the kyriv in midair. Swinging his blades, jumping back with a mighty gust of his wings, before darting around the beast. Quicker than the kyriv—or its rider—could react.

I gasped, dread pooling in my belly, when I saw the kyriv manage to swipe out with its bottom talons—merely by chance—catching Azur across the chest. A bellow sounded from my husband’s throat, though it wasn’t one of pain. It was one of fury. His movements sped. In disbelief, with my hand clasped to my throat, I watched his speed become so fast it was almost like a blur. But I saw the kyriv react. Flapping its wings, trying to dodge, snapping with its long snout and sharp teeth but catching on nothing but air.

Then Azur appeared over its neck. As if he’d appeared out of thin air.

It happened slowly. I watched Azur catch the rider across the throat with his gauntlets. I watched the rider fall off the kyriv’s back, plummeting to the land, though I knew he was already dead.

Then I watched as Azur brought those blades down with one mighty roar that seemed even louder than the kyriv’s.

The blades sliced cleanly.

The world seemed to sway as I watched the kyriv’s head separate from its body.

In his rage, with his berserker strength, Azur had sliced a dragon’s head clean off.

The slain kyriv shook the earth when it boomed onto the ground, missing the lore field entirely but crushing the walls that the delicate plants lay within. Its head rolled.

This land is soaked with Kaazor blood, Azur had told me just that morning. And Kaalium blood.

I wondered if this was part of what he’d meant.

A deafening cheer rose up from Laras, reverberating all the way to the keep, snapping me from my daze of disbelief.

Ludayn’s shoulders sagged. She took a deep breath for the first time in what had seemed like hours. The moments had passed slowly and yet lightning fast. I was dizzy, perhaps even in shock as I stared at my husband, who I just now realized was racing back to the keep, his wings pumping mightily. Gaining and gaining.

And blood.

Blood was dripping from him. His own?

Gods, I thought, a choked sound emerging from my throat.

“Go to him,” Ludayn urged. “He needs you.”

I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t even truly comprehend her words as I ran back into the tower from the balcony and raced down the stairs.

Before I ever reached the landing, I heard Azur land in the foyer, flying straight through the doors, which Zaale had had the good mind to keep open. Zaale hesitated, staying back. As were the other keepers that had flooded the entryway, all wondering what they should do.

I peered over the railing, gripping it tight with both hands, my heart pumping in nerves and anticipation and worry and fear.

I was gasping for breath as Azur roared, “Where is my wife?”

Blood was dripping down his chest. A deep wound was soaking the front of his vest from where the kyriv had caught him with its talons. But he didn’t even seem to feel it.

He was massive. In a full-blown rage that I should’ve been terrified of. He looked twice as big. His clothes were ripped at the seams, and I watched as he tore off his vest and dropped it in the entrance foyer, shredded like parchment in his big palms, a mere annoyance to him. Exposing an impossibly muscled chest that looked like it had been carved from marble. His wings were stretched wide. Tension strummed through him. I could actually see him shake from it.