The ground shattered.
The glass beneath us splintered outward, cracks spiderwebbing in violent streaks of silver, before I could say anything more, before Thorn broke another chain or the mirror pressed closer.
The Cradle wasn't awaiting my decision.
It was making one.
With a whip-c***k, Thorn's chains broke, but rather than releasing him, they pulled him sideways, pulling him in the direction of the mirror-self. His roar shattered the room, and as he struggled to maintain his position, his claws gouged sparks into the glass.
“Ravenna!” His voice, raw and broken, ripped through the chaos.
I lunged, shadows exploding from me in a storm of black tendrils, wrapping his body, trying to hold him to me. The silver chains clashed with them, light against dark, burning the air with fire
