The dungeon didn't have windows.
Just stone—cold, slick, and humming with wards meant to suppress. It didn’t just trap your body. It muted your magic. Your thoughts. Your will.
They wanted me quiet.
They didn’t get it.
I screamed into the darkness when the pain from the bond hit. Lucian was fighting—again. I could feel the feral heat of his claws and the tearing of skin. The surge of adrenaline was not his own. He was bleeding.
But still I breathed.
Still, I waited.
Because I knew.
He was coming for me.
Above, in the Moonspire Hall, Lucian stood shirtless, ringed by a circle of instructors. His chest heaved, fresh blood dripping from his knuckles. Five had come for him. Two walked away.
“You disgrace the crown,” said Kael, flanked by silver-robed council guards.
Lucian’s laugh was low, wild. “No. I disgrace you.”
“She’s a witch,” one spat. “A thief. A cursed mutt.”
“So am I,” Lucian growled. “But I don’t see you chaining me.”
Morganna appeared behind the guards, face pale and triumpha
