She didn't pull away.
The soft pressure of her palm lingering against mine spoke volumes louder than any words. But neither of us spoke. Instead, the distant rumble of thunder rolled through the castle walls, as if the night itself had taken a deep, impatient breath.
Aria and Riven had already gone ahead, noses pressed against old, ornate doors in the forbidden corridor—those same doors we'd been warned never to open. Behind them lay the wing sealed centuries ago, where forbidden magics were rumored to slumber. We followed, hearts hammering with a delicious blend of dread and excitement.
A sudden gust of wind scattered leaves through the corridors, rattling the ancient stained glass windows with mournful clatters. Lightning split the sky beyond, illuminating the hallway in stark, silver flashes. Shadows leaped and danced across the stone floors, weaving between cobblestones like living things.
