“There.”Saffron pointed to the outline of a door etched faintly in the stone.The wards shimmered just enough to catch the eye, carved spirals that thrummed with power.“The entrance.”
“Looks like something out of a bad horror movie,” Jacob muttered, unease plain in his stance.
“Not far off,” Saffron admitted.She pressed her palm close without touching.The wards hummed against her skin, sharp and unfriendly.“There are layers.A lock woven in blood.A trap on the threshold.And something older—I can feel it, like bones waiting under the soil.”
Ursula stepped closer, flames sparking along her fingers.“So how do we open it without getting fried?”
Saffron inhaled deeply, steadying herself.“We unravel it, piece by piece.The lock can be coaxed open with the right words.The trap ...we’ll need to mark a safe path.The old power,” her voice dropped, eyes narrowing, “that we’ll have to face when we’re inside.”
Nolan gave a low whistle.“And here I thought date night was supposed to be dinner and a movie.”
“Where’s the excitement in that,” Saffron said, but her lips twitched.
They stepped into the catacombs as a group, the air instantly colder, thick with the weight of centuries.Narrow passages stretched away, walls damp and carved with spirals that whispered when touched by light.Bones lay piled in alcoves, skulls grinning blindly.Candles flickered in their wake, the flames bending as if the very air resented their presence.
“Cozy,” Nolan muttered, ducking beneath a low arch.
Isaac’s jaw tightened.“Keep sharp.These places were designed to keep intruders out.Every step could be a test.”
He was right.The first trap revealed itself within yards.Saffron stopped short, holding up a hand.A series of runes glowed faintly on the floor, arranged in a spiral.
“Step wrong and the whole chamber fills with fire,” she said, tracing the air above the runes.Her voice was dry.“Efficient, if a little dramatic.”
“How do we pass?”Ursula asked, eyes narrowed.
“Like this.”Saffron whispered the counter-curse, her voice weaving through the stale air.The runes dulled, shadows swallowing the glow until the spiral vanished.She wiped sweat from her brow.“One down.”
The next was worse.A corridor thick with mist that clawed at their throats, whispering with voices not their own.Jacob staggered, eyes glazing.Liam caught him, snarling.
“Illusions,” Saffron barked.She dug nails into her palm, grounding herself in the pain before speaking the words of dismissal.The mist screamed before vanishing, leaving only damp stone and shaken breaths.
They pressed on.At last, they reached the burial chamber.
The room was round, carved with symbols so old they made Saffron’s blood vibrate.In the center rested a stone coffin, massive and sealed with iron bands.A cold light pulsed faintly from within, leaking through the cracks.
Saffron’s knees threatened to buckle.“The Stone.”
Her mates flanked her instantly.Isaac’s arm brushed hers, Nolan’s hand closing around her shoulder.Ursula whispered a curse under her breath.“Well, this isn’t ominous at all.”
“Council hid it here,” Saffron said, voice barely steady.“And left it guarded.”
The coffin groaned as they approached, the iron bands shuddering.Cold spilled across the floor, coating the stones in frost.Saffron’s breath fogged.She laid her hand on the lid.Power burned against her palm, rejecting her.
“It doesn’t want us touching it,” Isaac growled.
“It doesn’t want you,” Saffron whispered.Her heart hammered, the truth rising cold in her chest.She could feel the Stone’s essence, its hunger, its demand.Only one thing could unlock it.Blood.Not just any blood—hers.The blood of a High Priestess.
She swallowed hard, forcing calm.Out loud, she said only, “It needs more.A promise.A curse spoken true.”
The words came unbidden, curling in her throat, spilling into the air like smoke.“By my blood, by my breath, by the circle unbroken, I bind thee to truth and to ending,” she whispered.Her voice was soft, the syllables old and rough on her tongue, too low for the others to catch the full meaning.
The Stone thrummed, vibrating like a drumbeat in her bones.With a groan, the coffin cracked open.A rush of frigid air swept the chamber, nearly knocking them from their feet.
Inside, nestled among dust and bone, lay the Druid Stone—black, jagged, veined with silver light that pulsed like a heartbeat.
Nolan swore low.“Pretty, in a nightmare, could contain a deadly virus or the spirit of a demon kind of way.”
Saffron’s hand hovered over it, every instinct screaming both yes and no.The Stone’s power coiled tight, resisting her even as it beckoned.It was bound to her, but it would not give itself freely.
