The air inside the ancient crypt was dense with power—old and alive. The walls pulsed faintly with runes no one had seen in a thousand years, carved deep into moonstone and bone. The torchlight flickered against the shimmering inscriptions, casting strange shadows that moved as if they were watching.
Aria held Elena close, her sister's skin cold and her breathing shallow. The black veins still crawled beneath her surface like ink trying to break free. Caleb and Solene flanked Aria as they descended the winding staircase deeper into the heart of the crypt. Behind them, the stone entrance had sealed shut—cutting them off from the world above.
"What is this place?" Caleb asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"A sanctum of the spirit wolves," Solene answered, trailing her fingers over the glowing symbols. "But this one has been touched by something else… something darker."
