The Unshackling
Lucien
Madeline wasn’t with us anymore.
She stood among the wreckage like a ghost—her eyes, usually bright as the sunlit sky, were now distant, glassy, and hollow. Her breath came in shallow pants. Her fingers hung limp at her sides, barely twitching every few seconds, as if they fought to grasp something that wasn't quite ready to be grasped yet.
I didn’t need the bond to know she was somewhere else, somewhere far beneath the surface.
Then, like a slow ripple across a still lake when a stone breaks the surface, she blinked. Once. Twice. And the world slowly returned to her.
Her body sagged, her knees buckling as her balance gave way. I reached out without thinking—my shadows coiling from beneath my boots to cradle her spine, steadying her before she could fall.
“Are
