Darkness presses in with a weight that feels intentional, not the absence of light but the presence of something that has decided it prefers us blind, and I keep my breathing slow and measured because panic would only give it shape. Adam’s arm is solid around me, his grip firm without being constricting, and the bond blazes between us, not frantic but incandescent, like a signal flare burning steady in a night that wants to swallow everything whole.
The sound comes again, closer now, resonant enough to vibrate through my teeth, and I recognize it not as a growl or a call but as a pressure wave, the kind that announces arrival rather than attack. Whatever has stepped into the corridor does not hurry. It does not need to.
Justin’s voice cuts through the dark, clipped and controlled. “Light
