When the World Lost Its Chains
The earth did not simply collapse.
It gave way—as if surrendering to a command older than stone.
Ridge felt the pull before he understood it. The ground beneath his knees liquefied into raw force, dragging him forward with merciless intent. He dug his claws into the rock, muscles screaming, but the abyss did not care about strength.
It cared about claim.
“ARIA!” His roar tore through the battlefield.
The pack rushed forward, shouts erupting in panic, but an invisible barrier flared violently at the chasm’s edge. Wolves slammed into it and were thrown back, bones cracking, magic sparking uselessly.
“No one crosses,” a voice thundered—not Lykos’s.
Older.
Deeper.
The abyss answered Aria’s call.
Ridge was ripped free.
The last thing he saw before dark
