The solarium, once a haven of passion, now stood cloaked in eerie stillness. The vines that cradled the arched dome above shimmered with a soft, silvery glow, responding not to moonlight—for there was none—but to magic. Magic Samantha had woven with Melusine carefully throughout the space long before Callum arrived.
Samantha moved like a shadow across the solarium, the ring clutched tightly in her hand. Its obsidian surface glowed faintly, the etched runes pulsing in rhythm with a deeper force—ancient, hungry, and deliberate. The ritual had to begin now. Callum's breathing was slow and even, his chest rising in peaceful waves. She had never seen him sleep like this. Not since he came back.
Not since the Overseer returned with him.
