The Hunter and the Mage (The Raven and the Dove #2) - Kaitlyn Davis Page 0,149

skin. Their wings fanned out in opposite directions, her pure ivory feathers stark against the night and his dragon scales simmering with heat. He was dark where she was light, and she was dark where he was light, like a mirror reflecting a perfect complement, as though they were two halves of one whole. They looked like…they looked like…a King Born in Fire and a Queen Bred of Snow.

No.

Malek stumbled as his knees grew weak.

No, he repeated. No, it can’t be.

That was his fate. That was everything he'd spent his life working for. That was the air he breathed when he was drowning, the food he ate when he was starving, the only belief that kept him going when he wasn't sure he could make it through another day. It was the weight that buried him and the strength that buoyed him up all at the same time.

Lyana was his queen.

His partner.

The only one in the world who might understand him.

Every choice he'd ever made, no matter how tough, had been for her, for them, for their destiny. They were going to save the world. He believed that with every fiber of his soul. They were going to save the world, and when they did, everything he'd done would be worth it.

"Lyana!"

He had to break them apart. He had to reach her. What could an invinci do to save the world? Nothing. He was the aethi'kine. He was her teacher. He was her king.

"Ly—"

Malek broke off as a blast of magic shattered the air, so intense it stole the breath from his lungs. Before his eyes, Lyana and the raven tore apart, the moment between them broken. For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then, as one, all three of them lifted their faces toward the sky.

48

Cassi

Cassi was nearly back in Pylaeon when the magic hit, dispersing her spirit as it flooded through her with all the force of a dragon at full speed.

What the gods?

She cut across the night sky, crested the edge of the House of Whispers, and froze. The city was in absolute chaos. When she'd left her body behind, the earthquake was nothing but a subtle tremor, a nuisance, for sure, but not something to fear. Now the ground shook with such ferocity the population had taken to the sky. Ravens littered the air, their wings glinting silver in the moonlight. Their fear was palpable. Dust plumed from the streets. Booms reverberated, one after another, as walls and buildings toppled over, their foundations cracked and broken beyond repair. The river sloshed, sending wave after wave to flood the streets. Cassi followed the sparkling line back and back and back until she saw the pearlescent shimmer of Taetanos's Gate.

The god stone.

Propelled by her magic, Cassi raced over Pylaeon, ignoring the cries and shouts of a people in pure panic. Her spirit moved faster than a body ever could, and within moments she was across the valley and under the waterfall. Though she hated the feeling of passing through solid objects, speed was of the essence, so she forced her spirit into the thick cliff face, shivering as she fought the resistance of the rocks and went spilling into the sacred nest.

Something was wrong.

The power felt different. It vibrated across the harrowed walls with a rhythm she’d never experienced, not in all her hours spent spying for her king. Ravens screeched, their cries echoing in a deafening roar, the flutter of their wings like a living shadow as they swarmed the open air above the grove. Cassi floated through the trees, swerving around trunks, trying to hear over the groan of rock and the crunch of branches. The cavern shook violently. In its center, the priests and priestesses circled the god stone, their black robes a fluid curtain as they held hands and swayed in prayer, the gentle hum of their voices oddly calm. Only as she approached did she understand the problem.

The god stone had fallen.

The onyx orb no longer hovered in midair but sat against the dirt, leaning slightly to one side. It rolled with the movement of the ground, bouncing and tumbling, no longer held in place by the power of the spell. The surface didn’t shimmer with an opal sheen. No magic played on its smooth curves, reflecting like light on polished obsidian. It was dull and dark, but Cassi could still feel the thrum of magic in the room, ancient and powerful, building with each passing moment. The priests must have too, their chants