CONNOR POV
I pushed forward before anyone could stop me, boots splashing through shallow puddles that hadn’t been there a minute earlier, water seeping up through cracks in the stone as if the tunnels themselves were sweating. The space around us felt unstable now, subtly reshaping under our presence, reacting not to weight but to intent, to purpose, like something old was paying attention and adjusting accordingly.
The air shifted again.
The rot faded, replaced by something sharper, more primal, layered with a scent that had nothing to do with decay or damp stone.
Fur.
Cain caught it at the same time I did, his reaction violent enough that my shoulders tensed instinctively, muscles coiling as a warning rippled through my spine. This wasn’t prey. This wasn’t a wounded guardian or a ha
