"Senior Sister. Everyone who has ever laid a hand on me is dead. My husband is the only exception."
Rosalind's brow furrowed. She spat, "Lynara, have you lost your mind?"
"You've never even been betrothed. Where did this 'husband' come from?"
"That's enough. Apologize now and stop this lunatic act!"
But before the last word left her lips, Rosalind crumpled to the ground like a rag doll. The bones in all four of her limbs snapped at once, twisting her arms and legs at grotesque angles.
She stared up at me in horror. "Lynara, what kind of dark sorcery is this?"
"Let me go! You're killing an immortal in front of the Sovereign himself. Do you have a death wish?!"
I didn't spare her another glance. My grip tightened on Elara's wrist, and my voice stayed flat. "Are you going to pull the bones out yourself and hand them over, or do you need me to do it for you?"
Elara's face went white as parchment. She turned instinctively to Aldric for help.
Only then did Aldric snap out of his stupor.
His expression hardened. Killing intent flooded his gaze.
"Girl. Crippling someone without lifting a finger. Your cultivation is impressive, I'll grant you that."