The Sanctum's twilight ambiance remained unchanged, cloaked in soft purple shadows and the faint hum of warding spells in the walls. But within Samantha, a storm brewed. Her body held the stillness of a predator lying in wait, even as her heart beat with a mixture of dread and defiance.
Samantha paced the length of the chamber, fingers wrapped tightly around the ring Callum had once given her. The cool metal burned with intent, a thrum of promise and danger tangled in its pulse. Outside, the Sanctum slumbered in uneasy stillness, unaware of the gamble she was about to make.
The ritual was ready. The ingredients were laid in precise circles etched into obsidian tiles. She had whispered the incantations into silence so many times that they pulsed now like a second heartbeat behind her ribs. All that remained was him. To bring him willingly, unknowingly, to the sanctified chamber where she would attempt the unthinkable—sever the Overseer's hold on his soul.
