She could feel it immediately. The ring on his finger was pulsing like a second, diseased heart. It wasn't just a piece of jewelry; it was like a drip of pure malice, pumping dark magic into his veins with every shallow breath he took.
The connection was a thick, oily cord of shadow that stretched from the obsidian band, burrowed into his hand, and anchored itself directly into his heart-core.
Eris's fire ignited. It wasn't the roaring, destructive flame that had leveled cities in her first life. It was a white-hot, surgical blade of light that shimmered at her palm.
Severance first, she thought whispering incantations older than time itself.
She dipped the flame toward his wrist, moving with the precision of a master jeweler. She felt the dark magic recoil, hissing against her heat. With a sharp, sudden flick of her wrist, she cut.
The connection between the ring and his core snapped.
Her incantations intensified.
