SERAPHINA’S POV
The corridor leading down to the auction chamber narrowed with each step. The air thickened as we descended, pressing against my lungs, as if I were suffocating.
By the time we reached the last landing, my legs felt leaden, as if I'd hiked a hundred miles.
The doors opened without a sound.
The room within wasn’t large, not in the way I had expected. It wasn’t a grand hall filled with glittering lights and polished excess. It wasn't designed for comfort or spectacle.
It was built like a pit, tiered downward in concentric rings that forced every eye toward the center. The stone underfoot was dark, uneven in places, as if worn down by more than just time.
Iron fixtures lined the perimeter, bolted directly into the architecture, some still bearing restraints.
