Hana didn't spend a single second reading the text. She didn't call out for Caspian, and she didn't wait for her mates to come to her rescue.
Her face was a mask of cold, raging maternal fury.
She shoved the Hawk-Eye MK7 back into her inventory and sprinted after the damn reptile who had stolen her baby, her boots thudding violently against the stone before she launched her body straight out into the abyss after him.
Diving out of the high, gaping mouth of the den's ledge, the violent wind of the battlefield slammed into Hana's face.
Below her, the valley was a chaotic symphony of war—lasers tearing through the purple clouds, dragon roaring, and the scent of ozone and sulfur thick enough to choke on.
But Hana's eyes were locked entirely on the trailing streak of dark mist descending down the steep, rocky incline of the eastern ridge.
