PREVIEW

...

His wings snapped open and down, launching him into a corkscrew spin. Lava trailed from his body like comets, and when he reappeared above me—he was holding a spear.

Not forged. Not summoned. Torn from his own spine.

The molten weapon spun once in his grip before he hurled it down.

I threw both hands upward and let the Abyss form a dome above me—not a shield, but a wound. A gap in reality.

The spear struck it and vanished.

Silence.

Then, o ...

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