Elara stood by the window of Aldric's sanctum, the silver glyph still warm beneath her blouse. Below, the city pulsed like a living creature—indifferent to the supernatural war building beneath its skin.
"I didn't expect the seal to feel like that," she murmured. "Like something inside me… reoriented."
Aldric stood behind her, arms crossed. "The first contract made you mine. This pact makes us each other's."
She turned, searching his face. "You said I'd have power. But I feel like I'm carrying a storm inside me with no map to navigate it."
"You don't need a map," he said. "You need a forge."
Before she could ask, a pulse of magic rippled through the floor. Aldric's head turned sharply. "They're testing the Veil again."
She grabbed her coat. "We should go."
He stopped her. "No. This time, you go without me."
"What?"
"You need to learn to stand in the Veil without my presence. The Courts will expect you to break without backup."
He stepped forward, brushing his fingers against the ring on her hand. "But know this—if you fall, I will come for you. Every time."