The Hollows glowed under the elders’ fires, their ancient faces carved with shock as we stumbled from the cavern’s mouth, battered and bleeding. My heart pounded, the bond with Lucian a frantic pulse—alive, urgent, but fraying under the weight of what we’d seen. The mirror’s reflection burned in my mind—my face, twisted, marked, hers.
The man’s words—the breaking begins with you—clawed at me, a truth I couldn’t unhear. I gripped my blade, its weight the only thing keeping me from unraveling.
Lucian’s hand stayed on my arm, his silver eyes searching mine, blood dripping from a fresh cut on his cheek. “You’re okay,” he said, more command than question, but his voice shook, betraying him.
“Am I?” I whispered, my voice raw, the bond spiking with my fear. That reflection wasn’t just a trick
