“When shadow swallows the golden throne, and rivers run dry where magic has flown. The cursed shall rise with fate-bound hands, a tethered soul to shifting sands.” Everything inside me stilled. I couldn’t find my breath, couldn’t stop the crushing weight of her words. “Born of ruin, blood, and war, bound to take yet cursed to mourn. The tideborn’s gift, bound in chain, to break the bond or bind again.”
