With a final, thunderous snap, Kimba’s jaws closed around the dark fire king. There was a burst of shadow and flame—a taste of scorched earth and bitter ashes on the wind. Then, silence, and the echo of victory ringing through Rory’s bones.

  Kimba’s wings beat as she hovered in place, and Rory exhaled, shaky and elated, knowing that for this moment, they had won. And beneath her, Kimba let out a satisfied, smoky huff, her body finally relaxing as the darkness tasted defeat.

  Rory pumped her fist, breathless. “That’s for threatening my family, you glorified bonfire.”

  Gabby, fire sword dripping with demon blood, let out a breath. “Never thought I’d see a dragon eat a dark king. Can we call that a win?”

  Lark, shaking out her hands, managed a tired smile. “Let’s see if it sticks.”

  Kimba landed, and Rory ran down her wing straight for Aston. He wrapped her up tightly and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Why the hell do you insist on scaring the hell out of me?”

  Rory smiled sheepishly as she looked up at him. “To keep things interesting?” He simply grunted. They both turned when they heard a whooshing sound.

  The massive dragon shifted back in a swirl of light and magic. “He tasted like hubris and ash.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’m going to need a week to get that out of my teeth.”

  But before anyone could celebrate, the ground under Rory’s boots began to tremble—a deep, bone-rattling quake. The earth split.

  “Move,” Osiris ordered. “Get on the same side.”

  Rory watched in awe as the air queen effortlessly lifted half the group across the chasm until they all stood together. She watched in horror as ancient stones crumbled and a chasm tore through Stonehenge, belching sulfur and dark magic. Then Rory glanced around at the faces of her friends. Her eyes landed on her dragon bonded, who was looking at her mate.

  Kimba’s eyes met Osiris’s, as they seemed to understand exactly what was happening.

  The last echoes of Kimba’s victory had barely faded before the soul-bonded pairs closed in further away from the chasm, battered but alive. The air was thick with adrenaline and the aftertaste of magic. Rain drizzled through the shattered stones, hissing on scorched earth.

  Gabby was the first to break the silence. “Somebody want to explain why the ground just tried to swallow us? Because I distinctly remember the plan did not include splitting open the ground of one of the seven wonders of the world.”

  Lark, still catching her breath, gave a wry snort. “Or how we didn’t just die in that shit show? Because none of that was the plan.” She glanced at Rory. “No offense. I’d have probably done what you did, too. Your sister is just a kid. I wouldn’t have wanted her within fifty miles of Viscious.”

  Rory’s stomach twisted. This was her fault. But she couldn’t say she wouldn’t do it again. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you all. It’s just, she’s my family. My only family.”

  “I don’t think that you didn’t trust us, not really,” Kimba said, her eyes gentle as she looked at her. “You just trust your own abilities more. You’ve been taking care of yourself a long time, Rory. You’ve had no one fighting your battles for you or even with you. Nobody is blaming you.”

  “Speak for yourself, king eater,” Gabby said dryly. “I’m totally blaming her. A damn demon stole the suckers out of my back pockets. And then fled. He didn’t even try to fight. Just took the suckers and ran. You owe me some suckers, dragonrider.” She softened her words with a wink when she looked at Rory.

  Rory tipped her head at the fire elementalist. “I’ll be sure and find a very unique flavor, to go with your unique personality.”

  There were low, tentative chuckles from the group, but it died down quickly.

  Riggs, wiping blood from his jaw, fixed his dark eyes on Kimba and Osiris. “What’s the fallout? Forget the Grand Canyon behind us for a moment. We won, right? Viscious is dragon chow. That’s a win.”

  Osiris scrubbed a hand over his face, looking every bit the former king he’d once been—old, tired, and infinitely dangerous. “We were supposed to trap Viscious, not destroy him. The plan was to use the circle’s power to confine him—to keep him as a counterbalance to the light, to prevent exactly this.”

  Kimba nodded, her face grim. “It’s like a dam bursting. There’s no time for slow fixes or careful negotiations.”

  A current of unease rippled through the group. Rory could feel it, the energy around them shifting—like the world itself was holding its breath, waiting to see which way the scales would tip.

  Nasima, the air queen, stepped forward. Her white, shimmering hair clung to her cheeks in the damp, her eyes luminous with worry. “The short of it is, we didn’t win. Not in the way you’re hoping. The world demands balance. For every force of light, there must be an equal force of darkness. That’s the oldest law, and it cannot be broken—not without the universe breaking with it.”

  Kairi’s voice was gentle but implacable, water swirling at her feet. “The dark royals and the light are the anchors. Together, we hold the realms apart, even the underworld. Viscious was more than just a king—he was one of those anchors. With him gone, the balance is broken.”

  “But then how did the gate get opened,” Shelly began, “if you are able to control it?”

  The water queen shook her head. “We don’t control it. A gate can be opened and closed by those able, like the dragons with their fire, but in order for it to keep from collapsing altogether, it requires the magic of all the royal elementals.”

  Dhara nodded, earth magic rumbling beneath her words. “And when balance is lost, the world finds the fastest way to restore it. The gate between the realms was the weak point—already cracked, already healing. Killing Viscious undid that healing in an instant.”

  Beval, Nasima’s mate, added quietly, “If too much darkness, or too much light, tips the scale, the gate shatters. And whatever’s on the other side, comes through.”

  Aviur’s flame flickered, casting deep shadows on his face. “The dark fire queen will not let this stand. She will want retribution for her mate’s death. The dark royals will not rest until balance is restored, by force if necessary.”

  Brianna stepped forward, her hand in Rush’s. “So what now? Do we just wait for them to come for us? For Lucifer to waltz through that chasm and try to take the world?”

  The royals looked at each other, the weight of centuries in their eyes.

  Kairi broke the silence. “We could return to the elemental schools. Prepare the next generation. War is coming, whether we want it or not. If the students aren’t ready, none of us will last long.”

  Dhara shook her head, and when she spoke her voice was like granite. “We could try to heal the gate again, but it will require sacrifice. Someone will have to take Viscious’s place—to become the new dark anchor. It’s a death sentence, or worse, but that is what will restore balance.”

  Rory’s stomach tightened as she looked at the group of people around her, some she’d come to love like family. “How on earth are we going to do that?”

  “Seriously,” Tara said, shaking her head. “It’s not like we can just put out a post on all the socials, ‘Villan position just came available, all dark, twisted, elementals, please apply at the gates of hell.’”

  Gabby shrugged. “It needs work, but it could do in a pinch.”

  Before anyone could respond, the ground beneath Ra’s feet trembled. A low, guttural hum pulsed through the stones, and the air grew suddenly thick—charged with the kind of magic that made every hair on Rory’s arms stand on end.

  Then, just as abruptly, fire and smoke erupted around Ra.

  It wasn’t ordinary fire—it was laced with shadow, streaked with gold and deepest red, swallowing him in an instant. The air filled with the roar of ancient power, the scent of scorched earth, and something older, darker—like the echo of a tomb being opened after centuries in shadow. The flames twisted, rising in a vortex, and within their heart, Ra’s silhouette arched in pain, his hands clawing at the air as if reaching for something—or someone—just out of reach.

  “Ra!” Shelly screamed, surging forward, but Osiris caught her arm, holding her back. His face was pale, eyes wide with the terrible certainty of someone who’d seen this kind of magic before.

  “Don’t!” he said. “You can’t touch him right now. The balance—he’s—” Osiris shook his head, words failing him as the flames coiled tighter around Ra’s body.

  Rory’s heart hammered. “What’s happening to him?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

  The royal elementals exchanged grave looks, but none of them moved. Nasima’s hand fluttered to her lips. Kairi’s eyes shone with tears. Kimba’s hand reached for Osiris’s as she watched with the same horror Rory felt.

  A sigil flared to life at Ra’s feet, glowing with molten red and black. The fire bent inward, pressing against his skin, and when he screamed, it was as if the sound came from the depths of the underworld itself. Rory could see shadows writhing beneath his skin, ancient hieroglyphs flickering up his arms, racing to his heart.

  “His blood,” Agni, the light fire queen, whispered, horror in her voice. “It’s answering the call. The oath . . . the ancestors . . . ”

  Shelly fought Osiris’s grip, tears streaming down her face. “He fulfilled the oath, he handed Aurora over—but it was a trick. It wasn’t real⁠—”

  “The magic doesn’t care about intent,” Aviur said, voice rough. “It only knows the oath was fulfilled. The balance is demanding a new anchor. And Ra—Ra is the only vessel left with enough darkness in his blood to take the throne.”

  The group watched, helpless, as the fire and shadow twisted tighter, forming a crown of black flame above Ra’s head. Shelly sobbed, wrenching herself free and falling to her knees, reaching out with her magic, her love, anything to steady him.

  For a long, breathless moment, the world seemed to hold itself on the edge of a knife. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the flames collapsed inward, and Ra dropped to his knees, then fell to his side, gasping, his skin marked with swirling sigils, his eyes burning with flames where moments before only darkness had been.

  The silence was absolute.

  No one moved. No one breathed.

  Shelly crawled to Ra’s side, gathering him into her arms. “Ra,” she whispered, voice broken and desperate. “Please be okay.”

  He looked up at her, and for a moment, Rory saw both the man she’d come to know and something ancient and dangerous lurking beneath the surface.

  Osiris stepped forward, the lines of his face carved deep with regret and dread. “I don’t think an ad will be needed,” he said quietly. “The universe just recruited a new dark fire king.”

  The wind howled over the ruins, darkness pulsing from the open chasm, and the group realized, with a collective shudder, that the battle for balance had only just begun.

  CHAPTER 27

  “The world thinks darkness is something you fight or flee. But sometimes, it’s something you have to carry—and pray you don’t drop along the way.” ~Ra

  Ra tried not to flinch as the heavy doors of the dragon king’s hall thundered shut behind them, sealing away the last echoes of war and leaving only the relentless throb of magic in the stones. Veins of molten gold and crimson fire pulsed through the walls, casting flickering shadows over the faces of his friends—no, his family, the ones still standing, the ones whose fate he could still ruin.

  He felt the magic under his boots, ancient and hungry, vibrating up his bones. Every breath was a battle: the frozen bite of the dragon realm air, the heat of something inside him writhing, twisting, burning for release. Shadows crept at the edges of his sight, whispering in a language older than memory, promising power, promising oblivion. He gritted his teeth and clung to Shelly’s arm, the only warmth that didn’t hurt.

  Shelly’s grip was fierce, her pulse frantic against his skin. He wondered if she could feel how close he was to snapping—how thin the thread had become. Hope, stubborn as roots, wrapped around his soul. But even roots could be torn out.

  The group clustered around a new obsidian table—a table that hadn’t existed last time Ra was here. Had it grown from the stone, summoned by the king’s will, or was everything just different now because he was? Kimba, in her human skin, sat at the head, eyes narrowed and lips pressed in a line that said she was working, always, to keep control. Osiris stood beside her, arms crossed so tight his knuckles shone white, jaw ticking with every breath.

  Everyone else—Elias, Tara, Liam, Gabby, Rory, Aston, Aurora, Fern, Penny, Cordelia—sat stiff and silent, as if afraid to make any sudden movements. Even Gabby’s usual swagger was replaced by a bouncing knee and a too-wide grin. Aviur and Agni, the fire royals, took their places at the far end, radiant and terrible, the air around them shimmering with heat.

  Everywhere, Ra caught glances—furtive, worried, some openly afraid. Aurora clung to Fern’s hand, peeking at him with eyes so big and blue they almost glowed. Aston had his arm around Rory, but his gaze, watchful and protective, never left Ra..

  Outside, somewhere far away, the other royals and soul-bonded pairs fought whatever horrors the open gate was unleashing. In here, it was just them and the truth.

  No one spoke.

  The silence stretched taut as a drawn bow. Ra’s skin crawled. He saw his own reflection in the black glass table—his eyes weren’t just his anymore. They burned with something ancient, something cruel. He looked away, heart pounding so hard he was sure everyone must hear it.

  Kimba’s voice shattered the quiet. “Rory, I realize you and your sister have some catching up to do, and much needs to be explained to her. And I promise we will get to that. But, at the moment we have more pressing matters.” She turned her heavy gaze on Ra. “All right, new dark fire king, care to share with the class what it feels like to be the universe’s answer to the question, ‘How bad could it get?’”

  Laughter clawed at Ra’s throat but wouldn’t come. “Like chewing on glass and swallowing fire,” he said, voice raw. “There’s a—pressure. Like gravity keeps getting stronger. Like if I let go, even for a second, something else will take over.”

  He heard a stifled gasp—Aurora, clutching Fern’s arm. Shelly’s hand tightened on his. She was trying to be brave for him, but her nails bit crescent moons into his skin.

  Aviur leaned forward, red-gold eyes boring into him. “That’s the balance. It isn’t gentle. “Permission is not sought. It demands tribute. It will take what it needs.”

  Gabby tried for levity, but her words came out too fast, too brittle. “Well, you’ve definitely leveled up your brooding. Ten out of ten, Ra. Dark circles, haunted stare, existential dread. Primo dark king material.”

  Shelly shot Gabby a glare that could have melted stone. Gabby just shrugged, but the joke fell flat, tension thickening in its wake.

  “Easy, Shells,” Tara said softly. “That’s just Gabby’s way with not knowing how to deal since she has nothing to kill.”

  “What she said.” Gabby pointed at Tara.

  Osiris’s voice was gentle, but the words landed like stones. “Magic doesn’t care about comfort. When Viscious was destroyed, the scales tipped. As we said, the universe needed a new anchor, Ra. And you . . . .…” he shook his head, “you were already marked. By your blood.”

  A cold shiver raced down Ra’s spine. He stared at Shelly’s hand in his, willing it to be enough. “My ancestors . . .” his voice caught, “they’re part of this?”

  A wind swept through the hall, cold and dry, carrying desert sand and the scent of ancient incense. Torches guttered. Shadows gathered at the far end of the table, pooling and twisting until they took the shape of a man—tall, regal, skin like sun-warmed stone, black hair braided with gold, eyes burning with knowledge and regret.

  Ramses.

  The pharaoh’s gaze pinned Ra to his chair. For a heartbeat, Ra couldn’t breathe.

  “You are my blood,” Ramses intoned, voice echoing in stone and marrow. “And our line is bound to the underworld. Not by your sins, but by mine. By the bargains struck in darkness, believing we served Osiris, when it was Lucifer who waited in the shadows. For that blindness, our souls paid the price.”

  Ra’s heart hammered. Inside, the darkness surged—a thousand voices rising, singing of vengeance, power, freedom. He clung to Shelly’s hand, to the memory of who he’d been before this night. “You’re free now? Because the gate is open?”

  Ramses’s face was carved from sorrow. “For now. The open gate has loosened many bonds. But the universe is not merciful, Ra. It remembers every debt. It looks like you are the sacrifice for them.”

  Shelly’s voice trembled, but her chin was high, her eyes fierce. “What happens to him now? Will he survive this?”

  Ramses met her gaze, and the whole room seemed to lean forward, waiting for his answer. “That depends on the strength of your hearts. The darkness will always hunger. But it is not all he is. Ra, you are more than your blood. More than the mistakes that haunt our line.”

  The silence felt suffocating. Ra’s free hand shook. He pressed it to the table to hide it, but Gabby’s gaze caught the movement, her teasing mask slipping for a moment into something raw.

  Aviur’s flames guttered, throwing shadows against the wall. “The temptation is to surrender. To let the darkness define you. But the world needs a dark king who remembers the light.”

  Ra felt the shadows crawling under his skin, hungry and cold. But Shelly’s warmth against his side was a lifeline–a single, stubborn spark. He pulled her closer, desperate for her light.

  Rory cracked through the tension, voice loud and too-bright. “We need to speed thigs up. My sister and I have a decades worth of girls nights to catch up on. So, just to recap: our new dark king is a magical cocktail of ancient curses, fire, and family drama. Nothing to worry about. At all.”

  Kimba snorted. “Speak for yourself. I think he’s never looked more powerful.”