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His head lifts.

His eyes are molten.

“Still standing,” he grinds out.

Sable’s voice cracks through the wind. “Congratulations, you dramatic ass. Keep doing that!”

The devourer’s hollow chest pulses again.

This time, the force spilling from it catches the crowd.

People scream as the pull drags at them. A nobleman in blue collapses against a rail, gasping. A human clerk drops a stack of evidence papers and clutches his chest. Syrenya staggers but stays upright, one hand gripping the shoulder of the woman beside her.

Rhazek slams both hands into the cracked ward post.

Gold-red power bursts outward in a shielded arc, cutting off the worst of the devourer’s pull from the trade hall steps. His expression hardens with effort. “Move them back!”

Sable grabs the nearest clerk by his collar and hauls him toward the inner aisle. “You heard the terrifying demon man. Back, unless you want your soul eaten for rich people nonsense!”

I keep moving toward Corin.

Vaerith sees me.

His eyes narrow.

“Isolde,” he calls, voice amplified and cold. “Approach that creature and you confirm every claim of corrupted attachment.”

I do not slow.

“You are very committed to bad phrasing,” I call back.

A few startled laughs rise despite the terror.

Vaerith’s face tightens.

Good.

Let him hate me while I am useful.

Corin’s gaze snaps toward me as I near the inner edge of the circle. “No.”

The word rolls with too much force, more command than request.

I stop only long enough to glare at him.

“Try again,” I say.

His expression twists with fury and fear. “Isolde, stay back.”

“Better, but still rejected.”

“The energy is too high.”

“I know.”

“I can feel it trying to climb the bond.”

“So can I.”