The biting wind whipped at Amelia's face as she hurried through the deserted streets, the abandoned warehouse looming on the horizon like a skeletal sentinel.
It was just past midnight, the city echoing with an eerie silence broken only by the distant wail of a police siren.
Fear gnawed at her stomach, a cold serpent coiling tighter with each step. Victor, alone and possibly injured, was the only thought that propelled her forward. Trusting a stranger, especially in such a desolate location, defied logic.
But logic had flown out the window the moment Richard mentioned Helena.
Reaching the warehouse, Amelia found it shrouded in darkness, its gaping maw like a hungry beast waiting to devour her.
A shiver ran down her spine as she approached the entrance, a single, flickering street lamp
