The battle raged around them, a blur of steel, claws, and magic colliding beneath the blood-stained sky. Layla’s breath came in sharp bursts as she strained against the chains that held her, her entire being aching for release. The abominations her father had unleashed twisted through the battlefield, tearing through friend and foe alike. And in the distance, her mother struggled to evade the monstrous creature bearing down on her.
Then, a voice cut through the chaos, steady and strong. “She is not yours to bind.”
Silence rippled outward from the ritual circle, a force as ancient as the moon itself weaving through the battlefield. The warriors turned, even Gideon Blackthorne’s chant faltered. Emerging from the smoke and ruin, an elder figure stepped forward, robes billowing around them a
