Page 79 of The Dryad Storm

The wordDryad’khinstrikes me as revolutionary in its implications—a term that embraces not only the Dryad’kin, like me, who possess actual Tree Fae lineage, but also thekhinof the Dryads, including those who are simply aligned with both them and the Natural World.

My thoughts careen toward Lukas and his insistence to me on the night of the Yule Dance that Mages had Dryad lineage. An achingly vivid memory surfaces, of Lukas’s subversive smile and the flecks of snow catching on his black hair. My throat tightens, sorrow piercing my heart as tears sheen my eyes, the sudden desire to have him here with us so intense I feel gutted.

“Lukas should have had this,” I rasp out to Yvan in a ragged voice as I rage against Lukas’s selfless end. “He would have been transformed by III too.”

Yvan’s invisible fire flows around me, and he nods and draws me into an embrace, my forehead pressed to his hot skin as he holds me tight and I rail against both the loss of Lukas and what was lost tohimhis whole life—his connection to Forest power.

And to the Dryad he always was.

“He losteverything,” I whisper as the tears come, Yvan’s hot hands splayed against my back, keeping me close. “He gave up everything, for all of us.”

“I know it, Elloren,” Yvan says, voice raw, empathy blazing through our bond. “I know he did.”

I tense against the undertow of pain, devastatingly clear on what Lukas would say if he were with me at this moment.

Have your moment of grief, Elloren.Onemoment.

Then pull yourself together andfight back.

I meet Yvan’s searching look as he raises his palm to cup my cheek then leans into kiss my forehead, his warmth suffusing every inch of me, the love he’s flooding through our bond an anchoring force, enabling me to quickly pull myself together.

“I was offered a binding to the Zhilaan Forest,” Yvan confides, his violet-fire gaze locked on mine. “I accepted. And vowed to use my power to protect it.” Sparks flash at the edges of his eyes. “I’m being called there, Elloren. It’s like a migratory pull. We need to gather everyone together—my mother, your family, and all our allies—and join themallto the Natural Matrix. I understand now, what you felt and saw inside of III. This fight... it isn’t what we thought. We’re standing at the precipice of a complete unraveling of the Natural World.”

Yvan’s mention of our families and allies sparks a renewed awareness of Tierney’s disappearance, and worry for her rises. I turn to the Dryads. “Where is Tierney?” I ask. “And the Death Fae she was with?”

“After they led the Errilor Ravens here,” Sylvan answers, “they were drawn east through an Asrai water bond. I sensed it empathically as they disappeared.”

My mind whirls.

East.Perhaps drawn back to the Vo River by Tierney’s Asrai’kin to fight the Shadow in a land decimated by Vogel’s forces. And Vogel has had eighteen days to regroup and plan attacks, not just against Yvan and me, but against the entire East.

Yvan turns to Oaklyyn, a conciliatory light in his eyes. “I have more of an understanding now,” he ventures, “of why you were willing to battle me if it meant saving the Forest from being destroyed—”

“You understandnothing, Icaral,” she spits out at him, her eyes bright with hate.

“Thenteach me,” he rejoins, meeting her ire with impressive steadiness as he wraps his hand around mine. “It’s true. I have Icaral of Prophecy power. Souse it. Use it for the Forest.”

Hazel tosses a sly look at Oaklyyn. “So many unlikely ones being called into the Forest’s circle,” he croons. “Having trouble keeping them out, Oaklyyn?”

Oaklyyn’s livid gaze swings toward him. “Just like I had trouble keeping you out,halfling.”

The world pulses aggressively with Hazel’s power as he gives Oaklyyn a chilling look.

Oaklyyn takes a confrontational step toward him, slashing her hand toward Yvan and me, her lips trembling, “Just like them, you’ll bring nothing but death to the Forest. And then you’llfeaston it.”

Hazel’s black lips pull back into an otherworldly snarl, his teeth blackening andelongating. “You knownothingof what I am,” he bites out, gnashing his jaws at her.

“We need toalign,” Yvan says to both Hazel and Oaklyyn. Their combative gazes snap toward him. “III’s message to me was clear. We’reallneeded in this fight.”

Yulan’s gaze lights on Oaklyyn, a beseeching look on her delicate features. “Things are changing, Dryad’kin,” she murmurs.

“Things arealwayschanging,” Hazel agrees, his deepened voice seeming to rumble up from under the ground. “But even more so now.” His midnight gaze slides back to Oaklyyn. “Hold on to the rigid lines of the past at your own peril, Dryad’kin. It will bringVoid Deathdown on us all. I stand withNatural Death.” He swipes a black-taloned hand toward the giant ravens surrounding us. “As do they. The Errilor are here because there is a Reckoning at hand, and wemustsubvert it.Together.”

Answering strands of black, misty power flash into being around my ravens, the suspended mist flowing out to encircle us all as confusion blazes through both my fire and Yvan’s.

“What’s a Reckoning?” I ask Hazel.

Hazel levels his enthralling gaze on me, the world pulsing darker as Errilith pulls our thread of connection toward the ground, images of mass extinctions of animals and plants and humans flashing through my mind, gooseflesh rising on my skin.

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