Syria’s POV
I took a deep breath before stepping through the gates.
I was prepared.
But there was nothing.
No guards. No wolves. No voices. No movement.
Just silence.
It was heavy.
Off.
The type of silence that pressed against your ears and made your heart beat louder.
I swallowed hard.
Something wasn’t right.
I made my way slowly toward the front doors. My steps echoed across the stone path, each one louder than the last.
It was like the silence was swallowing everything else, making every tiny sound feel massive.
I glanced around.
Still no one.
I reached the door and knocked.
“Hello?”
No answer.
No footsteps.
Not even the rustling of movement behind the curtains.
Not a single presence to indicate someone, anyone, was inside.
Where were the maids? The butlers?
