LUCIAN
The pack never really sleeps.
The guards are always keeping watch, but even when the halls fall silent, there's always some current flowing beneath the stone. It might be whispers, secrets, restless energy that refuses to die.
Tonight, the energy belongs to her.
I notice her shadow first, gliding along the corridor wall, slender and deliberate. Then her footsteps, soft but quick, as though every sound might betray her. She doesn't see me, though I've been watching for weeks now, but who am I kidding? I'm always watching her.
Amaya.
She slips into the archives again. I exhale slowly through my nose. Of all places, she has to keep testing her luck there. She either doesn’t know or doesn’t care that getting caught inside would be enough to make Theron grind her to dust under his
