The silence outside was deafening.
The heavy stone doors groaned as they sealed behind me, cutting off Cairon's roar, the Forsaken's voice, and the scream I didn't know had ripped from my own throat. The air outside was thinner, colder—crisp with night—but I couldn't breathe. Not really.
I pressed my hands against the stone, heart slamming against my ribs like it was trying to break free and claw its way back to him.
"Cairon!" I screamed, shadows rising with my panic, curling around my shoulders, my legs, my fingers—reaching, searching, failing.
No answer.
Just the dull thud of my own heartbeat. The echo of a kiss that tasted like endings.
I crumpled to my knees, the Codex clutched against my chest. Its surface burned through my tunic, branding me with heat that pulsed in sync with the ache behind my ribs.
I shouldn't have left him.
But I didn't leave him—he pushed me. He made the choice I didn't want to face. He always did.
And now he was inside. Alone. With that thing.
