Interlude - Victor - The Tether Breaks
Victor Whitlock dropped the glass before he realized his hand had gone numb.
It shattered against the stone floor of his study, shards skittering across the room as a sharp, invisible pain tore through his chest.
He staggered back a step.
Not from injury.
From shock.
The thread.
The one he had woven so carefully years ago.
The suppression that had sat quietly around her mind, her power, her identity like an invisible cage.
It didn't weaken.
It didn't loosen.
It snapped.
Victor inhaled sharply.
His eyes widened.
"No..."
He could feel it.
A surge of magic so strong it felt like lightning through his veins.
Old magic.
Royal magic.
The kind he had worked for years to bury.
"She used it," he whispered.
Thomas rushed into the room at the sound of the glass breaking.
"What happened?"
Victor didn't answer at first.
He could still feel the echo of it.
Like standing too close to a thunderclap.
"She healed someone," he said finally.
Thomas frowned. "Healed?"
Victor's jaw tightened.
"She shouldn't be able to do that. Not yet. Not ever."
Understanding dawned slowly on Thomas's face.
"The suppression-"
"Is failing," Victor snapped.
He turned toward the window, staring out into the darkness beyond the estate.
"She's with him," he muttered.
Thomas swallowed. "The Silverwood King."
Victor nodded once.
"And now he knows."
Silence filled the room.
Heavy.
Thomas spoke carefully. "What do we do?"
Victor's expression hardened into something cold.
Certain.
"We move now."