Gabriella’s hand trembled.
The light pooling in her palm burned hot and steady, a living culmination of every bond, every sacrifice, every ancient promise folded into her bones. One gesture. One release. And the Devourer would be unmade.
The dead zone waited.
The sky stilled, fractures frozen mid-spread. Even the shadows seemed to hold their breath, recoiling as if afraid to witness what came next.
The Devourer stood before her, no longer towering, no longer vast. The storm around him had thinned, his cloak torn and fraying into wisps of nothing. Cracks of light ran through his form like fault lines, glowing brighter with every pulse of the Heart behind Gabriella.
For the first time, he looked… tired.
“You hesitate,” he said quietly.
Tristan took a step toward her, fire flickering l
