Onyx Storm (The Empyrean #3)

by Rebecca Yarros

A wall that snarls. Scales shimmer to the same silver-blue as my strike, and a small dragon stalks toward Theophanie, her head low, teeth bared. And just like that, my stammering heartbeat stabilizes. Andarna. Theophanie reaches out her hand, wonder lighting her red eyes. I don’t care what her intentions are—she’s not getting her hands on Andarna. Pain wraps me in a broiling vise and fire sears my lungs, but I hold the bolt and sprint. Andarna leaving was one thing; losing her to the touch of a dark wielder is incomprehensible. “Irid,” Theophanie whispers with reverence, straining toward Andarna. I lunge, driving the dagger straight into her heart. Fire breathes through me, until I am char and cinder and agony. She staggers backward and starts to laugh. Then she sees the blood and stops. “How?” Her eyes flare, and she topples to her knees. “Stone doesn’t kill venin.” “You were never just venin,” I reply. “Dunne is a wrathful goddess to high priestesses who turn their backs on Her.” She opens her mouth to scream, then desiccates in an instant. I release the bolt, plunging us into darkness and surrendering to the fire burning me alive. “Violet,” Andarna whispers. And then I hear nothing.