The dim light filtering through the inn's dusty window did nothing to ease the knot twisting in Liam's gut. He pressed his forehead against the cool glass, staring at the shimmering barrier that pulsed like a living thing just beyond the street. A familiar weakness crawled through his veins—the same draining pull he'd felt near those cursed chains. His fists clenched until his knuckles whitened.
'Damn it… not now. Not after everything.'
"Medusa," he said, voice low and rough, turning from the window. "How the hell are they maintaining a barrier like this? I freed you. Shouldn't that have broken their hold?"
Medusa leaned against the far wall, her serpentine hair shifting restlessly. She shook her head, golden eyes shadowed with old pain. "It's not me, Liam. Your dark energy weakens near it… because of my blood. The Scorpion gang drained me for millennia. They built their power on it."
