"Well, here we are," Evelyn whispered as they finally reached the basent of the castle, their footsteps silent against the cold stone floor.
Shadows stretched across the dimly lit corridor, the air thick with the scent of damp stone and sothing far more sinister—blood.
"Rember, we just need to get Stephany and get the hell out. We do not want to linger in a vampire’s lair longer than necessary."
Valerian didn’t respond. He simply watched Evelyn’s back, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his dagger. This mission was reckless—dangerous in ways he couldn’t begin to calculate. But the risk wasn’t what unsettled him. It was her.
For the first ti in his life, he found himself caring more about soone else’s safety than his own or his sister. He had spent years as a hunter, expecting to die with a stake in his hand and a vampire’s corpse at his feet. But now? Now, he wanted to live. He wanted her to live.
"Evelyn . . ." The na slipped from his lips before he could stop it.
She halted mid-step, glancing over her shoulder. "What?"
Valerian opened his mouth, but no words ca out.
Damn it. What was he trying to say? That she should retreat, save herself? That he liked her? That he was starting to feel sothing for a witch—sothing reckless, sothing dangerous?
It was lunacy. She was a witch. He was a hunter. They were on opposite sides of a war that had been raging for centuries. There was no room for . . . whatever this was. Not in a world where survival was a gamble and emotions were liabilities, and each side wanted to tear each other apart.
He clenched his jaw, shoving the thoughts deep down where they couldn’t betray him. "Nothing," he muttered. "Let’s just be careful."
Evelyn smirked, turning back toward the hallway. "Oh, I’m way ahead of you on that one."
Her tone was light, teasing—but there was sothing else hidden beneath it, sothing she wasn’t saying either. Valerian exhaled sharply, shaking his head.
This was bad.
He wasn’t just walking into a vampire’s lair.
He was walking straight into sothing even more dangerous.
Her.
Valerian exhaled a slow, asured breath, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. Now he sowhat understood how Stephany must have felt when she confessed her feelings for a vampire. The impossibility of it. The conflict between duty and desire.
But they were Cross.
They had responsibilities far greater than their feelings.
He and Evelyn . . . they weren’t ant to be together. Just like his sister and Lucien weren’t ant to be.
Even so, that knowledge did nothing to dull the ache in his chest.
Shaking the thought away, he refocused on the mission. "How the hell are we supposed to find my sister in this massive castle?" he muttered, eyes scanning the endless corridors. "We don’t even have a damn layout of this place."
Evelyn smirked as if she had been waiting for him to ask that. "Didn’t I tell you to leave everything to once we got here?" She extended a hand toward him expectantly. "Did you bring what I asked?"
Valerian narrowed his eyes but reached into his pocket, retrieving a worn, crescent-shaped pendant. It was old—older than both of them combined—and the tal was dulled from years of wear.
He placed it in Evelyn’s palm. "She always wore this back at HQ, but it must have broken when Lucien ca and took her."
Evelyn studied the heirloom for a mont, running her fingers over its smooth surface. "Good. This has enough of her energy in it for to track her."
Before Valerian could even ask what she ant by that, Evelyn closed her fist around the pendant—and crushed it.
Right there.
Like it was nothing.
Valerian froze. His brain struggled to process what had just happened.
". . . What the fuck?" His voice ca out low, strained, dangerously close to a shout. He had to force himself to keep quiet, but if they weren’t in a damn vampire’s den, he would have been yelling all the way back to HQ. "Do you have any idea what you just did?"
Evelyn, completely unfazed, blew the fine dust from her palm into the air. The shimring particles danced in the dim light, spiraling like embers before drifting in a single direction. A clear path to Stephany.
"You’re welco, by the way," she quipped, watching the dust as if it hadn’t just destroyed a priceless relic.
Valerian’s jaw clenched. "That was a family heirloom. Passed down for generations. Do you even realize—you can’t put a price on it!"
Evelyn rolled her eyes, already following the dust’s path. "Oh, don’t be so overly dramatic, Cross." She tossed him a teasing grin over her shoulder. "I’m sure you have plenty of your so-called heirlooms lying around back in your HQ. Besides—" she gestured at the floating dust leading them forward "—your sister’s safety is a bit more important than an old necklace, don’t you think?"
Valerian inhaled sharply, his frustration simring dangerously close to the surface. But as much as he wanted to argue, to lecture her on the importance of that necklace, he couldn’t deny the truth in her words.
Stephany was sowhere in this gods-forsaken castle, and if this was what it took to find her . . . then so be it.
Grinding his teeth, he took a step forward. "We will discuss more about this once we’re back at HQ."
Evelyn humd in amusent. "Add it to the list."
Valerian sighed.
Sothing told him that list was only going to get longer.
Evelyn moved, retrieving a small leather pouch from inside her cloak. She loosened the drawstrings, revealing a fine, iridescent powder that shimred like crushed moonstone.
"Stay still," she murmured.
Before Valerian could react, she pinched a bit of the powder between her fingers and blew it toward him.
The dust spread in a delicate veil, clinging to his skin and clothes like mist. It slled faintly of damp earth, old parchnt, and sothing vaguely tallic—like blood, but not quite.
Valerian grimaced. "What the hell is this?"
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