"Stay alert," Caleb whispers, his voice barely more than a breath, yet it cuts through the stillness like a blade. I nod, feeling the weight of the book of spells pressing against my side, its leather cover warm from the heat of my hand.
As we cross the area, my grip on the book tightens, my knuckles whitening. I can't let it fall into the wrong hands, no matter what.
"Emma," Caleb's hand finds my shoulder, steadying me. "We'll get her back." His voice is a low rumble and it gives me some hope.
I nod again, my heart hammering against my ribcage. The fear is there, coiled in my stomach like a serpent ready to strike, but it's tempered by something else—a fierce protectiveness, a need to shield those I love from the darkness that seeks to engulf us.
"Let's find her," I say, my own voice
