47: Whispers Among Us
By mid-afternoon, the fortress had fallen under an uneasy hush. Guards patrolled twice as often, eyes flicking to every shadow. No one spoke the Phantom’s name aloud — but everyone felt her presence, slithering unseen through the corridors like a chill wind. Aria could feel it too — a heaviness in the air, as if the walls themselves were listening. She followed Damon down the long stone hallway that led to the lower archives. The scent of dust and iron filled the space; old scrolls and records lay stacked in ancient wooden cabinets. This was where the histories of the pack were kept — and where Damon believed they’d find their first clue. He lit a lantern and handed it to her. “After every attack, the Phantom’s victims were marked with a crescent,” he said, his tone low. “But the pat
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