"Gods, that's a big one," Muir said quietly.
It struck.
I threw myself sideways. Heat blistered the air where my head had been. The floor bucked under the impact. I shifted on instinct—scales, talons—and raked across the serpent's cheek. My claws threw sparks. No blood.
The tail slammed.
It caught me mid-turn. Pain ripped through my ribs and I skidded across rock. My breath tore out of me. By the time I found air, the jaws were already descending—fangs like molten knives.
A column of water smashed into its face.
Steam exploded. The bite missed. Muir slid in front of me, hands splayed, another wave building along his forearms. "Up, Primal."
I staggered to my feet, dizzy. The serpent shook off the water, scales shedding steam like rain. It lashed again. Muir redirected, water hardenin
