Morgan's scream ripped through the sky and Elene's heart raced in her chest, a lump forming in her throat.
"Forrest!" she grasped her mate's arm, almost piercing his skin with her nails.
"On it!" The General called back as much eitr as he could, forming black wings and pushing off the ground. The Eitr had been supporting him in battles before but never had he used it in such a way.
First, he took off from the ground, cutting through the air with force, but soon he realised that flying wasn't that simple. It required practice he had never had. His wings, woven from dark tendrils of power, lacked the finesse of a natural flyer. The sky was not his domain, and it betrayed him with gusts of wind that tugged and teased him, obstructing his attempt to save Morgan.
Elene forgot how to breathe
