The halls leading away from the interrogation chamber felt colder than before, as though the fortress itself sensed the shift in fate and braced for what came next. Raven walked beside Calyx in silence, her pulse drumming a slow, heavy rhythm in her ears. Every flicker of torchlight along the stone walls seemed sharper, every shadow deeper.
She felt watched.
Not by the guards.
Not by Calyx.
By something that lingered beyond sight—something that echoed in the very marrow of her bones.
Calyx stole a glance at her. "You're holding your breath again."
Raven exhaled slowly. "Feels like if I breathe too loud, something will answer back."
"That's… terrifying," he muttered. "Please don't phrase things like that."
She managed the faintest smile, though her chest remained tight. "I'm serious."
"I know," he said. "That's the problem."
