SERAPHINA
What was that shadow?
I half-shifted in an instant, pressing my back hard against the damp, crumbling stone, the coldness of it seeping into my skin. I didn’t dare make a reckless move, not when the unknown lurked so close. A crawling prickle of unease worked its way up the back of my neck, my instincts speaking in an ancient, silent language: something was terribly wrong here.
The air was dense, unnaturally heavy, carrying the thick scent of decayed moss and stale earth, with a sharper, metallic tang lurking beneath it. A scent I knew too well.
Blood.
I held my position, every muscle locked tight, straining to hear past the thundering of my own pulse. But there was nothing; no footsteps, no breath, no rustle of movement in the darkness.
“Did I mishear?” I asked my wolf.
