Raven didn't flinch when the sovereign dial snapped off. He saw Seravelle the moment the bond shattered.
Her chains are off. She's not healing to preserve... she's healing to purge.
He didn't wait. Whispered across the bond:
"Warden, lock Orun. Widowvine, take the outer ring. AX-K9, with me. We're going in."
Chains whirred. The last light from the throne flickered out.
She didn't scream.
She smiled.
Seravelle straightened, her posture graceful as if preparing for a ballroom step. Her cracked golden armor shimmered under fractured light.
"Oh, darling," she purred, brushing radiant blood from her chin with the back of her palm. "It seems the king's leash just slipped."
Her halo flared once more, tilted and unstable—like a crown daring to fall but never quite dropping.
"And me? I've been ever so patient."
She moved forward like royalty—barefoot now, robes drifting like smoke behind her. Her voice was velvet and knives.
"Shall I show you what devotion really means?"
