Everywhere was in chaos after Valentine’s declaration.
It reacted.
The floor beneath them pulsed once, slow and heavy, like something massive turning in its sleep. The sigils did not relight. Instead, new markings surfaced beneath the stone, older and cruder, etched so deep they looked less like carvings and more like scars.
Eryx went very still.
“That should not be visible,” he said quietly.
Valentine felt the pull again. Stronger now. No longer searching. It had found a direction.
“This place is lying,” she said.
Luther turned toward her sharply. “What do you mean?”
Valentine closed her eyes and placed her palm against the stone. The cold did not bite her skin. It recognized her. The pressure inside her chest aligned, not with the sanctuary’s heart, but with something far beyond
