I am Lazarus Ebonhart. A warrior, a hunter, a man once carved from vengeance and steel. My name was spoken in fear, my hands stained with the blood of those who stood in my path. I had a purpose once—unyielding, righteous. Then *she* happened. The one I was meant to destroy, yet I awoke with her name on my lips, her warmth beside me. A spell stole my will, but now the chains have broken. So tell me—was it ever magic at all, or was I always meant to be *hers*?