Elias moved before thought.
The cold had spread from his chest to his limbs, a frozen river where blood should have been. The fragment that had dragged Nia from the circle turned, its single green eye locking on him. It lunged, tendrils slicing the air. Elias didn't dodge. He stepped into the attack, grabbed the nearest tendril with his bare hand, and squeezed.
The cold jumped from his palm into the creature. Ice spread across its form, cracking its shadow-flesh. The fragment shrieked—a sound that split the air—and tried to pull away, but Elias held on. The Silence's echo roared in his ears, not as a whisper but as a scream of fury.
"You don't get to touch them," he snarled. "Not ever again."
He twisted. The tendril snapped, and the fragment collapsed into a heap of black frost. It did
