Nina stared at the empty hallway, the quiet pressing down on her like a heavy blanket. The silence was deafening. Her chest ached. Her hands trembled.
She had always thought silence would bring her peace. That, for once, having no voices in her head—no warnings, no instructions, no cryptic remarks from her Patron—would be a relief.
But this… this was something else.
She was alone.
Nina sank to her knees by the doorway, one hand pressed against her chest. Her throat tightened as her eyes burned.
She tried to hold it together, but the tears were already welling up. She curled in slightly, her shoulders trembling as her breathing grew shallow.
Everything was wrong.
She couldn't reach her Patron. Her mother wasn't home. The house was too quiet. The dungeon was behind her, but its weight still clung to her skin. She hadn't even processed what had happened in there—Solarin, the emperor, the portal, the arm Leo had cut—
She couldn't breathe again.
