LOGINThe first strike did not come with fire.It came with silence.Raine sensed it before anyone spoke the warning. Not through sight, not through sound, but through the bond—through the sudden tightening of that invisible web that stretched from her heart into the bones of the land. It was like a held breath. Like the moment before a blade touched skin.She was seated at the long stone table in the lower hall, maps spread before her, old routes marked in ink so faded they looked like scars. Maerith stood to her right, one hand braced on the table, the other hovering over a symbol etched into the stone itself. Lucian leaned back in his chair, boots crossed, eyes sharp despite his relaxed posture. Fenris was standing, always standing, a presence at her back like an unyielding wall. Kael was closest—close enough that she could feel the heat of him, the quiet tension humming through his body.Raine’s fingers curled slowly.“They’re here,” s
The world did not sleep anymore. It listened. Raine felt it the moment dawn crept over Stonehaven—before the bells rang, before merchants stirred, before the city fully remembered how to breathe like something ordinary. The land beneath the stone shifted subtly, not in pain, not in warning, but in awareness. As if old scars had begun to itch. She stood barefoot on the rooftop, cloak wrapped tight around her shoulders, the cold stone biting gently into her soles. The bond stretched outward from her chest like invisible roots, threading through alleys, cellars, abandoned keeps, and places no map dared to name. Ghosts. Lucian’s word echoed in her mind. Not spirits. Not the dead. The forgotten. Kael watched her from a few steps back, arms crossed, every muscle taut with restrained readiness. Fenris stood closer, silent as a carved sentinel, eyes scannin
Morning did not bring peace.It brought consequences.Raine woke with the sensation of being watched—not by enemies, not by spies, but by the world itself. The bond lay warm and steady beneath her skin, no longer flaring in warning, yet heavier than it had ever been. Like a crown she could not remove even in sleep.She lay still, breathing slowly, listening to the city beyond the shuttered windows. Stonehaven—because that was what the city was called, though few remembered why—was quieter than it had been the night before. Not silent. Just… attentive.As if it had felt the shift beneath its bones.Kael lay beside her, one arm draped over her waist, his breathing deep but alert even in rest. Fenris sat in the chair near the door, eyes closed, presence immovable. Lucian was nowhere to be seen—never far, never still.Raine lifted a hand and pressed it lightly to her chest.The bond answered instantly.Not
The city rose from the valley like a blade half-buried in the earth.Raine felt it long before she saw it clearly—an oppressive density in the air, a pressure that made the bond tighten in warning. Stone towers climbed toward the sky, their glass-veined facades catching the sun in cold, sharp flashes. Roads coiled inward like arteries, all of them leading toward a central spire crowned in metal and rune-etched obsidian.“Beautiful,” Lucian muttered. “In the way a well-made trap is beautiful.”Fenris nodded once. “This place feeds on silence.”Kael said nothing. His focus was absolute, senses stretched far ahead as they moved along the ridgeline overlooking the city. He felt the pull too—felt it gnawing beneath his skin, a low-frequency hum that resonated with the bond in a way that made his teeth ache.Raine stood between them, cloak pulled close, eyes narrowed on the city below. The land here did not bow. It recoiled. Like an animal
Dawn did not arrive gently.It tore through the forest in jagged bands of gold and ash, light cutting across broken earth and scorched roots, illuminating the aftermath of power unleashed. Where the Council had stood, the ground was cracked and blackened, sigils burned into the soil like scars that would not fade quickly—if they ever did.Raine stood at the center of it all, wrapped in Kael’s arms, watching the light crawl across the devastation with a strange mix of awe and unease.She had done this.Not in rage. Not in fear.In certainty.The bond stirred quietly within her, no longer flaring, no longer testing—observing. As if waiting to see what she would do next.Lucian broke the silence first, nudging a charred sigil with the toe of his boot. “Well. That’s going to be difficult to explain to the diplomatic corps.”Raine huffed a soft, breathless laugh despite herself. “You think they’ll ask polit
The forest knelt.Not metaphorically. Not symbolically.Physically.Raine felt it before she saw it—an immense, rolling pressure sinking through the earth as roots creaked and bowed, as ancient trunks groaned and lowered their canopies. Leaves shuddered, spiraling down in a slow, reverent rain. Even the wind stilled, as though afraid to disturb what had just been claimed.She stood at the center of it all, Kael’s arms still locked around her, Lucian and Fenris flanking them like living blades. The bond burned hot and steady, no longer searching or awakening—anchored. Complete.Too complete.Raine swallowed, suddenly aware of the weight pressing against her chest. Not pain. Responsibility.“This isn’t stopping,” she whispered.Kael’s grip tightened. “No.”Lucian glanced around, jaw tense despite the crooked smile tugging at his mouth. “Congratulations. You just terrified an entire continent.”Fenris did not joke. He stared into the trees, gaze distant and sharp. “They’re already moving