Bound To The Cruel Alphas (SPICY)
Silver light exploded outward from where my hand touched the stone.
The arena floor lit up in Lunae runes — not the corrupted black of Lucius's sigil but blazing, blinding silver, the same patterns from the Blood Moon ritual, from the maze, from the Guardian's body as it had moved through ancient light. They spread in every direction simultaneously, covering the dark cracks of the sigil, overlaying it, drowning it the way daylight drowns shadow.
The Severance Rite shuddered.
Lucius, for the first time, took a step backward.