"Yes!" he sobbed. "You two will bring it! The Soul-Merged Duke is the harbinger—your bond is unnatural—your powers are unholy—"
She released him suddenly. He gasped as if drowning.
Reichardt caught her wrist the moment she stepped back. His voice was taut. "Ahce. Enough."
She blinked slowly, as though her consciousness had drifted too near the edge of something deep and predatory.
"Yes," she whispered. "Enough."
Varn dragged the traitor away.
When they were alone again, Reichardt studied her carefully.
"You scared him," he murmured.
"He wanted me dead."
"That doesn't justify enjoying it."
She froze.
He didn't say the next part—not out loud:
You felt too much like Richard in that moment.
And Richard, at the end of his life, had been consumed by the beast.
Ahce folded her arms. "We don't have the luxury of being kind."
"Maybe not," he agreed. "But we cannot become what they claim."
She opened her mouth to argue—but then the world around her tilted.
