The world fractured around them.
Caroline felt it—inside her, outside her, through her. A force so ancient, so primal, that it didn’t just shift the battlefield—it rewrote it.
The ruins of White Hollow blurred, the stones melting into shadow, the air crackling with energy too vast to belong to one person.
And in the center of it all—
Zenia held her sword with her bare hand, blood trickling down her pale fingers, golden eyes burning with something like victory.
"There you are."
Caroline gasped, her body locking in place as the magic gripped her from within.
It wasn’t Zenia’s power that held her.
It was hers.
Something that had always been there—buried, locked away, waiting.
"You feel it now, don’t you?" Zenia’s voice was soft, almost gentle, but there was something hungry beneath
