The pull hit Draven like a blade through the chest.
Silver light wrapped around him in violent coils, dragging the breath from his lungs as the world tilted sharply on its axis. The ground vanished beneath his feet, replaced by a sensation of falling upward, sideways every direction at once.
“Elara!” he shouted, reaching for her.
She stood just beyond the collapsing boundary, arms outstretched, terror etched into every line of her face. “I’m sorry,” she cried. “It chose you.”
The boundary screamed, light folding inward as if recognizing something ancient in him something that resonated deeper than blood or rank.
The First Hunger stilled completely.
Its eyes widened.
“No,” it whispered. “That is not possible.”
Draven felt the bond react violently, silver-gold fire roaring to life in
