POV RUBY
The elevator didn't just stop; it died.
With a violent, mechanical shudder that threw me against the cold glass wall, the lights flickered once, twice, and then vanished. The hum of the servers—the heartbeat of the Sovereign—ceased instantly, leaving a silence so absolute it felt like a physical weight pressing against my eardrums. We were buried forty feet beneath the National Gallery, trapped in a tomb of black glass and unvoiced secrets.
"Nevan?" I whispered, my voice sounding thin and alien in the void.
"I'm here, Ruby. Don't move."
I felt the heat of him before I felt his touch. His hand found mine in the dark, his grip iron-strong and grounding. I could hear his breathing—steady, controlled, the breath of a man who had spent his life preparing for the dark.
"Vane cut t
