Liam’s POV
The corridor was silent when we returned, eerily so. My boots echoed against the stone floor as I led Henry and Elijah back toward Leila’s chambers. Torches flickered in the sconces, but their light felt pale, almost lifeless.
We reached her door together. Henry halted a few paces back. Elijah’s hand tightened around my forearm. I took a breath and stepped forward, my heart thundering so loudly I was sure Leila would hear it from wherever she was.
The door hung crooked on its hinges. Splintered wood lay scattered across the threshold. My chest clenched, and I dropped into a crouch, pressing my palm to the floor. Her scent, her comforting, familiar scent was gone. All that remained was smoke and ash and the faintest trace of silk.
“Leila?” I called, voice low but urgent. “Le
