When we break apart, we’re both breathing harder.
Bree’s watching us with that look—pupils blown wide, lips parted, the Ether curling around her like visible heat.
“Yep,” she says, voice slightly breathless.
Then she turns and keeps walking.
Gray and I stand there for a beat, both trying to remember how to think.
Then we follow.
The teasing energy fades as we draw closer to the Chamber. Nodding to a few Feeders as we pass them. The air shifts, heavier now. The veins of Ether at our feet becoming thicker the closer we get.
Gray murmurs, “It’s strange, isn’t it? Ethos wasn’t with the others.”
Bree freezes slightly at that name.
My senses sharpen feeling her heartbeat spike, her magic tremor. Her fear tastes like static and metal, but she’s holding it down hard.The same way she did that first night in the Sanctuary. She always does. I just didn’t know that’s what it was then.
Gray and I exchange glances. Something about Ethos’s absence doesn’t sit right.
“If Nyx is missing, and Ethos isn’t here…” Gray says. “That’s not coincidence.”
Bree doesn’t respond. Just keeps walking.
The trees thicken. The air changes.
The entrance appears—a stone stairway half-swallowed by roots and mist. The Ether gathers here, silver-bright and waiting, like it knows what’s coming.
I feel it against my skin. Pressure. Anticipation. Fear.
Bree slows, shoulders squaring, eyes fixed ahead.
Gray glances at me. Silent communication:Stay close. Don’t let her out of reach.
The moment we step off the stairs and into the chamber, the air stills.
The mist curls inward, gathering like breath being held.
Then—a voice. Smooth, feminine, threaded with shadow.
“Hello, Bree.”
Bree freezes.
My magic surges, instinctive and predatory. Gray moves closer, a low growl building in his throat.
And just like that, the light from the kitchen is gone.
Only the storm remains.
Chapter 45
Bree
“Hello, Bree.”
I stop mid-step.
