That night, the bond worsened.
It did not announce itself with clarity, but with distortion—thoughts blurring at the edges, emotions bleeding where they did not belong.
Elira pressed a hand to her temple as she walked through the corridor.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
And then—
Pain.
Sharp. Sudden.
Not hers alone.
She stopped, breath catching.
Somewhere within the castle, Kael was suffering.
She did not know how she knew.
She simply did.
Following the pull of the bond, she found him in a dim chamber lit only by fractured moonlight.
Kael stood motionless, but the markings beneath his skin flickered violently, as though something inside him was struggling against restraint.
"You should not be here," he said without turning.
Elira ignored him. "You are in pain."
"It is irrelevant."
"That is not an answer."
A pause.
The bond tightened, and Elira felt a fragment of his control slip—just enough for her to understand the scale of what he carried.
Not weakness.
Pressure.
Endless, silent pressure.
"I told you," Kael said quietly, "This is correction."
Elira stepped closer despite herself.
"And if it breaks you?"
For the first time, his voice lowered.
"Then it will have succeeded."