Kyria
I couldn't find anything tangible about the ritual; I went to bed.
The mansion was steeped in unnatural silence that night.
No creaking floors, no murmurs of midnight guards changing shifts. Just silence—so thick I could hear it pressing against my skin.
I tossed in bed, sheets twisted around my legs. A tightness curled in my chest as though the air had grown heavier. My breath quickened.
Then, it began.
One moment I was in my room; the next, I stood barefoot on a cold obsidian floor inside a void-like space. No walls. No ceiling. Just Derek — kneeling.
His shirt was torn open, his chest rising and falling in ragged gasps. Moonlight—or something like it—poured from nowhere, illuminating the sweat glistening on his skin. But this light was strange. It shimmered like liquid sil
