The claiming bond yanks me awake like a fisherman jerking his line. Tink's distress floods through our connection—raw, jagged panic that scrapes against my consciousness with such force that I'm on my feet before I'm fully aware of moving. Her fear tastes like copper in my mouth, and beneath it runs something new, something primal that sends my own pulse racing in response. Something is happening to her.

I stagger into the hallway, following the invisible tether between us. It's been ...