For seven hundred years, the lair had been my home. I had known every crack, every seep of moisture, and every groan of shifting tectonic plates. But it has always been a chorus of agony. A sensory prison that reminded me of my isolation.
Now, as I stepped out of the thermal pool, and pulled a fresh linen tunic over my head, the world didn’t just feel different. It felt mine.
The tether — that invisible collar that had snapped my soul back toward the lair whenever I strayed too far — was simply gone. In its place was a golden thread, humming with the same frequency as the blood in my veins and the heartbeat of the woman standing beside me.
“Kaspar?” Sloane asked.
I turned to look at her, and the breath caught in my lungs. I didn’t just see the dark hair and the hazel eyes. I saw th
