Aria
The prison collapses around us.
Not slowly. Not dramatically.
Violently.
Stone splits overhead as silver magic screams through the corridors in blinding fractures of light while the mountain itself begins tearing open around us.
The bond is too loud. Too alive.
Four kings slam through the connection at once now that the chains are gone.
Cassian’s focus. Lucien’s sharp control. Eryndor’s chaotic magic. Kaelith’s burning possessiveness.
Gods. I can barely breathe around all of them.
Kaelith’s arm locks around my waist the moment the ceiling cracks above us.
“Move,” he says, the word vibrating through the bond like command and panic tangled together.
Cassian appears beside us instantly. “Left corridor.”
“No,” Lucien snaps.
Silver magic slices violently across the collapsing
