WILLOW'S POV.
I left the bonfire a few minutes later. I wasn’t really feeling it anymore. Maybe it was the tension—or maybe the leftover anger from whatever had just happened between me and Atlas earlier.
Everyone else was still talking behind me, their voices blending together into noise I didn’t want to hear. I needed space and quiet—something that wasn’t filled with questions or stares. So I slipped away and made my way down the path leading toward the guest quarters.
The silence was deep, pressing against my ears until I could hear nothing but my own heartbeat.
I just wanted to breathe.
Halfway through the hallway, I heard it.
It was faint at first, like someone struggling to breathe. I frowned, tilting my head. Then came a sharp, muffled thud—like a body hitting a wall.
I hesit
