The night had thickened into a black, suffocating blanket. The moon hung low, veiled by thick mist that coiled around the trees like a thousand ghostly fingers. Adrianna shivered, the cold dampness clinging to her skin as she crouched beside Jonah, her heart pounding in her chest like a war drum. They were close — too close. Ahead loomed the Queen's lair, a jagged ruin of crumbling stone and twisted metal, its windows glowing faintly with a sickly red light. Adrianna could feel the pull of the place, the sheer wrongness radiating from it, sinking into her bones like icy needles.
Jonah stood like a wall beside her, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. His broad shoulders tensed, the faintest flicker of golden light shifting under his skin as he fought the urge to shift fully. He turned his head slightly, voice low but edged with tension. "Are you sure about this, hunter?"
