Sasha’s Pov
The passage to the restricted section of the library felt like slipping into the throat of something ancient and alive.
Rough-hewn stone closed in around me, slick with condensation and etched with sigils that pulsed faintly in the torchlight. Each flame flickered low, as if afraid to burn too brightly in this place.
I ducked beneath the arched entrance marked with the emblem of the old tongue, a warning or a welcome, I couldn’t tell, and slipped inside, heart pounding against my ribs like it wanted to turn back without me.
I had masked my scent with a chemical I found in the lab, it helped, though my potion was still working to mask my real scent, it dulled my presence until I felt like a ghost. But still, I sensed eyes. Watching. Judging. Waiting.
The air grew colder the
