Meanwhile, in the dark chamber, Theron's breath shattered into a scream as his gaze fell upon the broken token.
The fragments lay scattered at his feet, lifeless, dull, stripped of the faint glow that had once tethered him to her. For a fleeting moment, reason tried to steady him. It was only a token. A conduit. A thing that could be remade. He knew that. He could reach her again. He would reach her again.
But the thought did nothing to quiet what rose inside him.
Because what had been severed was not just magic.
It was something far deeper.
Something that did not belong to runes or craft or even power.
