Page 40 of The Syndicate’s Shadow Heiress (Branche de Lune Syndicate #1)

THREADFALL

Kali’s Emotional State: Shattered clarity. Her soul is split between prophecy and the present. The flare is peaking, her bond magic is screaming, and every piece of her is unraveling. But even broken, she’s dangerous.

T

he world didn’t spin. It fractured.

Kali didn’t remember falling, only the weightlessness. The moment her knees hit the shadow-forged stone, and the sound didn’t register.

Solen caught her.

Not like a lover. Like a lifeline. Swift, brutal, anchored.

“Kali”

“Don’t,” she whispered.

Her shadows were spasming, flickering in and out of sync with her pulse. Her flare screamed through her body like wildfire trapped within her bones.

Astraeus appeared on the threshold, eyes glowing with unholy light.

“She saw it, didn’t she? ”

Lev stepped in behind him, chest heaving. “Saw what?”

“The Vault doesn’t just reveal truths,” Astraeus growled. “It remembers futures that never happened and might still.”

Irina crouched beside her, ignoring the twitch in Kali’s limbs. “Your nose is bleeding. So is your shadowline.”

Kali laughed, hollow. “Guess I’m leaking prophecy.”

Lev swore under his breath. “We’re pulling out. Now.”

“No,” Kali hissed, catching Irina’s wrist. “We finish this.”

“Kali,” Solen said gently, his voice a thread against the storm, “You’re not just bleeding magic.”

Solen’s words landed like a stone. “You’re bleeding you . If you reach too far while cracked like this... we lose you.”

Her pulse staggered. Her knees nearly buckled. But she didn’t care.

“Then stitch me with fire,” she snapped. “I didn’t come this far to break quietly.”

Somewhere deep inside, a thread to Silas pulled tight—a warning, a memory of a life before war. She crushed it. No turning back. Not now.

Astraeus exhaled a long plume of smoke. “There is a ritual. One we haven’t used in eons. ”

“The Binding Thread,” Solen said. “It could kill her or stabilize her just long enough to burn Azareal to ash.”

Kali looked up, blood on her lips, shadows crawling up her spine like armor.

“Then sew me together with the only thread that never breaks,” she said. “Pain. It’s always been the one thing that holds.”

Irina rolled her eyes. “Goddamn girl. Can you save at least one dramatic mic drop for someone else?”

Kali grinned. Bloody. Wicked.

“Mic drops are my love language.”