Chapter 21 · Something Woke Up Below

The ground split open.

Not a crack. Not a tremor. The stone under Mara's knees tore apart like someone ripped a seam, and the sound that came up wasn't rock breaking. It was breathing.

Heavy. Slow. Old.

She scrambled back, blood still dripping from her palm, and the red light pouring out of Ronan's chest flared so bright she had to squint. He was on his knees between two of Silas's hounds, hands still pressed flat against the glass door, and his whole body was shaking.

"Ronan—"

"Don't." His voice came out shredded. "Don't come closer."

The door was still only open an inch. But that eye behind it hadn't blinked again. It just sat there in the dark, watching, and Mara could feel it looking at her. Not at the room. Not at Silas. At her.

Silas laughed.

It was a sharp, breathless sound, and he had both hands on the second key now, twisting it deeper into the lock he'd carved into the air beside the door. The keyhole wasn't metal. It was made of shadows and her blood, and every time he turned the key, the door shuddered and the gap widened another hair.

"You feel that?"