Diane snapped her fingers without another word.
Mana erupted from her hand, brilliant yet cold, sinisterly luminous. It crept toward Adam with the slowness of a predator, like fangs knowing which flesh to sink into.
A curse made of light. Original, rare—but weaker than Isolde's. Of course it would be. Training to dispel curses, she had said. But Adam's lips twisted. Not because he couldn't dispel it, but because his heart recognised the hissing threat before his mind could react.
A single thrum reverberated through his bones, louder than the others. His heart's Spellbinding Aegis triggered. Mana erupted, forming a shimmering sky-blue layer over his skin. The curse coiled around his uniform—only to burst apart at a wrathful pulse from the shield.
Motes cascaded around him like fireworks as he passed a hand over his face, biting his lip. Unplanned. Unnecessary. Trouble to explain.
