Alana's POV
The walls of the palace breathed silence as I slipped back through the hidden corridor behind the old library, the scent of moss and dust still clinging to my cloak. Moonlight cut through the cracked stained glass, painting fractured light over the marble floors. I moved like a shadow, heartbeat steady, senses stretched. I had done this before, too many times. But tonight felt different, the air was heavier, like it was waiting to collapse, and my steps, no matter how careful, echoed just a little too loud.
I had almost made it to the hallway near my chamber when I felt the pressure, like the cold breath of a predator against the nape of my neck.
"You're getting bolder," came his voice, smooth as winter and twice as sharp.
