Soulbound
For a moment, she saw flashes—her own death, the child she’d left behind, the sound of rain hitting hospital glass.
She staggered. “Sir—”
Soreth’s gauntlet snapped out, steadying her. “Ignore it.” His eyes glowed faintly red. “The Vein is ancient. It remembers every death it has ever touched. Let it in, and it will eat you alive.”
Ryn forced herself to nod, swallowing the bile in her throat.
They pressed deeper, passing what looked like trees made of glass, each branch filled with moving light. Souls—thousands—twisting upward in luminous vines.
Bab Populer