đđđđđđ
Zayne's hand moved to her throat. "Then what is she?"
â"I don't know!" The Zeta's voice cracked. "But when you claimed her... the magic recognized... equivalence. Maybe even... superiority."
âThe word hung in the air like a blade.
â"Impossible," Cyrus whispered, his black-red eyes fixed on me. "We're Scions. Demigods. Nothing isâ"
â"She threw me," the Zeta interrupted, her voice gaining a manic edge. "Threw me like I was nothing. That heatâthat powerâI've performed thousands of bindings. Never. Never has the claimed fought back. Never has the magic reversed."
â"Reversed?" Kaleb's voice was rough.
âThe Zeta laughed, the sound wet and broken. "You wanted to own her. Brand her. Make her property." She coughed again, more blood. "But the magic... it saw her as equal. Your souls, your wolves saw her as equal even if you didn't."
âShe looked at the silver scars covering their bodies.
