The air thickened with anticipation, every breath Ava took was heavy with the scent of blood, magic, and despair. The storm raged above, splitting the sky like shattered glass, revealing monstrous, writhing forms barely contained behind the clouds. Ava's eyes, wide and unblinking, remained locked on Lucas. His body, suspended in agony, twitched as the dark tendrils tightened their grip. His breath was shallow, ragged—each one might be his last.
"You know what must be done, Ava," the sorceress hissed, her voice slithering like poison through the air. Her lips curved into a cruel smile, each word deliberately slow, twisting the knife deeper into Ava's heart. "If you love him, you will do what's necessary."
