Their breaths, held tight in their lungs.
The thunderstorm outside still raged. Each flash of lightning painted the cavern walls in brief, terrible light like the hand of some distant god trying to glimpse into the dark.
A single drop of water fell from the ceiling and struck the stone floor.
One mistake. That's all it takes.
Tap.
It echoed like a war drum.
El moved first.
Low and silent, her blade barely caught the dim light. She was already a phantom in motion. Leo watched her vanish into the dark, the knot in his chest pulling tighter.
'She's too close. What if—'
El, teeth clenched, tried not to think. Her breath was slow, her movements practiced. No fear. Only the beat of her pulse in her ears. Precision. Calm. Don't rush it. Don't mess it up.
