The floor dropped under Lyria before she could even swear.
One second she was staring at the silver line burning around Kael's wrist. The next, the stone under her feet gave way with a deep crack and vanished.
She had just enough time to grab for Kael.
He caught her arm hard, fingers locking around her wrist like a vise. Ronan lunged too, but the opening widened too fast. Dust exploded upward. The shrine shook like it had finally snapped in half.
Lyria screamed when Kael slipped with her.
For a second they were both hanging over the opening, his hand on her arm, her body twisting sideways, boots scraping stone. Below them was dark and cold and way too deep.
Then the man in the hole, her father, grabbed her other arm.
The shock of it nearly made her stop breathing.
"Let go of the edge," he snapped.
Lyria stared at him. "You are kidding me."
"Not now," he said.
Kael was still holding her from above. His jaw was tight, muscles straining. His eyes flashed gold. "Lyria, move."
