Bound in silver chains.
Sitting against the obsidian wall, head bowed, dark hair falling forward to hide her face. Barefoot. Too thin. The chains loop around her wrists, her ankles, her throat—delicate but absolute, glowing faintly with the same light as the veins threading through the Void.
Where her bare feet touch the floor, the silver veins begin. Spreading outward from that single point of contact like roots, like cracks, like something alive drinking from the source.
Ether leaks from her like smoke. Silver threaded with black—alive, but wrong. Suppressed. Contained.
The smell of her nearly breaks me.
It’sreal.
She’sreal.
A sound tears out of me—half howl, half sob. Mourning and relief tangled into something that hurts worse than either alone.
And beside her—
Seth.
Collapsed on his side, one hand stretched toward Bree like he was reaching for her when consciousness left him. His chest barely moves. Too still. Too pale.
Footsteps thunder behind me. The others catching up, skidding to stops that echo through the chamber.
“Holy shit,” Jace breathes.
Rhett’s fire ignites, blue flame casting harsh shadows across the obsidian. “Bree—”
“Don’t.” Thane’s voice cuts sharp. “The chains. They’re silver.”
“So?” Rhett demands.
“So they eat magic.” Thane moves forward slowly, silver eyes scanning the bindings. “Touch them wrong and they’ll drain you dry.”
Theo’s eyes are glowing, distant and horrified. “She’s been here the whole time. Chained. Alone.”
“Not alone,” Wes whispers, staring at Seth. “He’s—is he alive?”
I’m already moving.
The wolf doesn’t care about silver or magic or consequences. It only knows one thing:she’s here and she’s hurting and I failed her but I’m here now—
I reach her in three strides, close enough to see the rise and fall of her chest. Close enough to smell the corruption threading through her Ether, sweet and rotten like fruit left too long in the sun.
The chains hum when I get close. Warning. Threat.
I bare my teeth.
The silver burns when my jaw closes around the first chain. Pain lances through me—not heat, butabsence. Like the metal is drinking the wolf out of me, replacing fur with void.
“Gray, stop!” Thane’s hand closes on my scruff, yanking me back. “You touch those chains too long and they’ll kill you.”
I snarl, twisting in his grip.
“I know.” His voice drops, quieter. Steadier. “I know. But we need you functional, not ash.”
Rhett steps forward, fire coiling around his hands. “Then we burn them.”
“They’re warded,” Stellan says from the entrance, voice tight. “You burn them, you burn her.”
