The world still trembled from the blast.
Lyra knelt in the center of the ruined hall, her palms scorched against the cracked marble, her breath ragged. Flames still licked her skin though she hadn’t willed them, each pulse of power threatening to rip her apart from the inside.
Her mates lay scattered, groaning, bloodied, yet alive.
Kael forced himself up first, golden eyes burning with fury and desperate love. “Lyra—”
“Stay back!” she gasped, the fire flaring with her panic. “I can’t control it.”
Lucien staggered to his feet, shadows crawling along his arms, wrapping around his chest like armor. His voice was low, dark, protective. “Then let me. Let me take it from you.”
Ronan growled, his wolf half-breaking free. “She doesn’t need your poison, shadow. She needs grounding. She needs
