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DAIN

S he ran.

Again.

The bond between us screams, the phantom pull of her magic lashing at me like a whip. It’s weaker than before, fraying at the edges, unraveling with every step she takes.

She’s trying to break it.

The thought ignites something dark inside me.

She doesn’t understand what she’s doing. What she is.

But I do.

The bond was not to be severed, never to be touched. It is something ancient, something tied to blood and fate. If she breaks it, if she severs what binds us, she will destroy herself in the process.

I won’t let her.

My wings cut through the wind, propelling me forward as I hunt her through the endless stretch of the forest. Her scent is everywhere, rain and fire, magic and blood. It’s inside me, burned into my skin, rooted in my very bones.

She cannot escape.

She belongs to me.

I find her at the edge of a ruined shrine.

The structure is old, older than both of us. Carved stone columns rise like skeletal remains, their surfaces etched with sigils I don’t recognize. The air is thick with magic, humming with an unnatural pulse. A place of power.

There she is.

Liora stands in the center of it all, her body trembling, arms raised as she speaks words that no longer sound like her own.

The magic swirls around her, dark and frenzied, wrapping around her body like phantom chains. The ritual is incomplete, the energy unstable. I can see it in the way her fingers shake, in the sweat beading along her brow.

My fury explodes.

I move before I can stop myself, storming into the circle, reaching for her.

“Liora!”

She startles, her concentration snapping as I grab her wrist. The moment my fingers close around her, the magic reacts.

A pulse of power erupts between us, violent and searing, knocking my breath from me.

The world tilts, no. It fractures.

Everything shatters around me in a storm of color and sound, pulling me under, dragging me through time itself.

I see it.

The vision is not gentle.

It tears into me, rips me apart.

I see myself, not as I am now, but as I was.

A prisoner.

Chained, bound, broken.

Magic coils around my wrists, scorching through my veins, locking me in place. I struggle, muscles straining against invisible bonds, but they don’t break. They never break.

Footsteps echo in the darkness.

She appears.

Amara.

She steps into the dim glow of candlelight, her violet robes whispering against the stone, her hands trembling as she approaches me.

I hate her. I love her.

The emotions war inside me, clashing like a violent storm.

This is the moment it all changed.

This is the moment I was betrayed.

Her voice is quiet. "Dain… please."

I snarl at her. “You have no right to say my name.”

She flinches, but her resolve does not break. She lifts her hands, magic gathering at her fingertips. I feel it snake toward me, curling around my body like a promise, like a curse.

"Don’t do this, Amara." My voice is ragged, torn between rage and something else, something I won’t name.

Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, her fingers trembling as she presses them to my chest. The spell burns.

"I have no choice," she whispers. "I have to stop you."

The pain is unbearable. It sears through my soul.

The magic wraps around me, burrowing deep, chaining me in ways I cannot fight.

She presses her lips to mine.

The memory stabs into me like a dagger to the gut. A kiss. A final kiss.

She seals me away.

The vision ends with a violent snap.

I gasp, choking on air as I lurch back into the present. The shrine’s ruins come back into focus, the towering stones, the swirling magic, the shattered ritual.

And Liora.

She collapses against me, her body shaking, her breathing uneven. I catch her before she hits the ground, my hands curling around her shoulders, anchoring her to me.

Her eyes meet mine. And I notice it.

Not just Liora.

Not just Amara.

Both.

The truth crashes into me, vicious and undeniable.

Liora was never just a girl. She was always Amara.

A fractured soul, reborn and bound to me by a fate neither of us can escape.

I shake my head, my grip tightening on her as my own breathing turns ragged. “What have you done?”

She doesn’t answer.

She doesn’t have to.

I already know and nothing will ever be the same again.