Tecarus tears ineffectually at the shadows strangling his neck and, from the garbled sound of his breathing, he’s slowly asphyxiating. “Xaden, please don’t!” Cat cries. Xaden’s grip only tightens as the rain dissipates to a drizzle. Tecarus gurgles, and fliers draw their weapons, but one growl from Sgaeyl is enough to keep them from advancing on Xaden.
