Even the walls trembled with the flow; the air itself felt like it wanted to rip them in half. Lucian could hardly stand; his body still refused to listen to his mind. His heart was so heavy she could hear it, over the creak of the floor, over the dark that rushed to swallow them. And the air here was diabolical — it had fangs — just waiting to get a good scab.
Serena jumped away from him, aghast, horrified by what she had become, clutching Lucian's wrist half beseechingly, half panic stricken. "What do we do?" her voice shaking with the calm she was attempting to project.
That thing, the thing from the shadows, the thing that towered over all of them like some damned dark god, Lucian could not even gather his thoughts, much less answer. What he had presumed was dead, up and gone, buried and dusted, had found its way to him and just that arrival set him a panic, ripples inside his chest.
