Once he was certain that Catherine was only slightly injured, with nothing more than a twisted ankle, Lucius finally allowed himself to exhale. The tension that had gripped him since her fall began to loosen, if only slightly. She stood beside him, her breathing uneven but steady, her hand still resting against the wall for support.
“Can you walk?” he asked, his voice cool but lacking the sharpness from before.
Catherine nodded. “Yes, it’s just a sprain. I’ll manage.”
“Good.” His tone was dismissive, but for a fleeting second, a flicker of relief crossed his face before his gaze shifted, drawn to their surroundings.
As his eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering from the cracked bulb overhead, a strange familiarity crept over him. His pulse quickened. The stone walls, the thick layer
