Pain tore through Elara like lightning.
Not the sharp burn of magic or the crushing weight of power but something far more intimate. The bond screamed as it stretched, threads pulled taut between her heart and Draven’s, straining against forces older than the packs themselves.
“Stop,” she gasped, collapsing to her knees before the throne. “You’re killing him.”
The chamber responded, light dimming as if considering her words.
“The bond resists transformation,” the voice said calmly. “It was never meant to coexist with the crown.”
Elara clenched her fists, silver light leaking between her fingers. “Then you’re wrong.”
The runes along the dais flared, rearranging into shifting patterns that pulsed with warning.
“No bearer has ever defied this law,” the voice replied. “Those who tried s
