The frustration was a caged beast roaring in her chest. Meditation had banked the coals of her prana, but it had done nothing to quell the storm of her emotions. The image of Khione's cold, defiant eyes, the memory of her absolute declaration—"He is mine"—echoed in the cavern of Eltreth's mind, fueling a fire that threatened to consume her from within. She needed an outlet. She needed to feel the cathartic release of a true clash, to push her body to its limits until the mental noise was drowned out by physical exertion.
Closing her eyes, she reached out through a unique, shadowy bond—a connection woven with blood and oath.
"I require your presence," she whispered into the psychic link.
