The shard settles on the dungeon floor and stops glowing, but the air does not return to normal and the silence that follows is not relief, it is awareness, because something moved outward from that break and every instinct in my body tells me it did not stop at the packhouse walls.
Lucian grips the bars of his cell tightly, and the faint poison burn along his wrists does not seem to matter anymore as his gaze lifts toward the ceiling like he is listening to something beyond our hearing.
“They felt that,” he says quietly.
Axel’s head snaps toward him instantly.
“Who,” he demands.
Lucian lowers his eyes slowly, and there is no arrogance in them now, only certainty.
“The ones who were waiting,” he replies.
The mind link opens again before Axel can respond, but this time the tone is di
