The wait was excruciating, but as the sky started to burn with the first rays of dawn, he knew she had gone to one of the others. He bit back the frustration. It had been a random choice.

As the first beam of light broke through the trees, he launched into the air and transformed, his dragon breaking the canopy with a bellow. As decided, he would follow the northern path. Elian would loop south. Ronan would head directly through the trees, and Malek would pick through the tiny, winding lanes made by the forest creatures.

As a dragon, the journey would take him three more days. Three days, alone, without his mate or his pack.

On the second day, he understood why Elian’s plan had been necessary. Damien had indeed split his forces in an attempt to find Selena, and Kaelen had to weave through great shooting spikes aimed at him from the ground before he looped back to incinerate the wooden devices with a great burst of fire.

He lost half a day to fighting, sustaining more injuries than he’d have liked but laying waste to hundreds of men.

The human invasion had begun.

He only prayed that whichever one of his packmates carried Selena had managed to escape facing the same threat that he had.

By the time he reached the towering gates of the Marble Halls, so tall he could perch on the top and see all the way to the northern volcanoes he called home, he was exhausted and depleted.

And the first to arrive.

No longer caring about Damien’s soldiers so close to Phaendar’s throne, he roared out, the sound shaking the trees below him. If any of them were in danger, he hoped they would respond. He would be there in an instant.

There was silence. Then, a golden hawk shot out of the forest, looping through the archway and coming to rest beside him.

“It wasn’t you?” Elian asked, green eyes narrowed at the trees.

“No,” replied Kaelen, “and no sign of the others yet.”

They sat, scanning the canopy, the daylight fading into night, until a commotion at the edge of the trees near the great stone bridge leading into the mountain home of the Marble Halls drew their attention.

Malek, stumbling out of the darkness, shadows thrashing around him.

Nightmares.

“Fuck,” Elian said, spreading his wings and shooting down.

Kaelen was close behind him.

Elian transformed back into his true form upon reaching the ground, but Kaelen stayed as a dragon, incinerating any nightmares that tumbled from Malek and made to run back to the safety of the woods.

Elian, eyes narrowed and jaw set, braced his hands against the empty air and roared as he tried to get control of the shadowy creatures. Malek was still carving through them, a whole legion of them, his fangs glinting as he ripped them apart.

By the time they were done, all three were panting, Elian nearly crumpling to the floor from the drain on his magical energy.

“Fuckers,” he gasped, “I’ve only ever managed to control small ones before.”

Malek groaned, still in his true form, shadows leaking from great cuts in his flank where nightmares and tried to leap onto him by dragging huge claws down his back. “You can control nightmares?”

“I can control shadows,” Elian clarified, rubbing his temples, “but these weren’t normal nightmares. Something else was controlling them, bidding them to attack.”

“Something was,” said Malek, shaking his shaggy-maned head, “Damien’s weapon. It has to be.”

“Selena’s with Ronan?” asked Kaelen, wincing as he shifted back to his human skin, ragged pants tearing from his lips at the exertion.

“Must be,” said Elian, “I had to fight my way through a hundred to get here. The bastards caught me in anet. It restricted my magic. I had to fight my way out with daggers.”

“They have these machines,” said Kaelen, “that launch spears into the air. Dragon-killing spears.”

“And they sent nightmares after Malek,” said Elian, glancing over at their wounded packmate. “Looks like Damien’s been doing his research. The real question is, what did he send after Ronan?”

They all glanced back at the forest, the tension rising with each passing second.