The air shifted the moment Danielle stepped through the crypt’s threshold. Sunlight spilled behind them in long, gold streaks, but inside the crypt, the air was cooler and heavy with silence. Her boots scuffed the packed dirt as she moved forward, thoughts swirling about how many had walked this path before, wolves mostly. Some probably never walked back out.
The crypt was cool and shadowed, the thick stone walls swallowing most of the sunlight spilling from the open entrance. The air was damp with the faint, earthy smell of old stone and something darker beneath it. The remnants of smoke, incense, and long-forgotten rituals filled the air. Along the smooth floor, patches of moss clung stubbornly near cracks where water had found its way in. Wolf motifs were carved with quiet reverence in
