The world tilted on its axis. For a man whose entire existence was built upon a foundation of unshakable control, the sensation was akin to freefall through an endless, starless void. Li Xun's fingers spasmed, and he snatched his hand back from hers as if her skin had suddenly become white-hot iron. He stared at his own hand, then at her, his golden eyes wide with a dawning, impossible horror and wonder.
Her power was linked to his. The thought was a thunderclap in the silent library, echoing in the hollows of his soul. He had spent years cultivating his celestial dragon lingli, a pure, untainted force of divine order and imperial will. It was his birthright, his weapon, his very essence. And in her, he had felt its perfect, haunting echo. Not an imitation, not a similar energy, but a resonance so true it felt like a part of himself that had been cleaved away and now stood before him in the form of a woman.
