The tremor came again, a slow, rolling shiver through the silk beneath their feet, but this time it wasn't like the gentle, sensual pulses Allen had learned to control. This was heavier, deeper—like something big was moving in the dark. Xilthera's golden eyes flicked toward the tunnel mouth, the afterglow still on her lips but the predator returning to her stare. Nyxilith shifted where she lay on her side, her spider legs tapping faintly as though feeling the vibrations for clues.
Allen didn't break eye contact with the darkness ahead. "That's not one of yours," he said, voice low.
"No," Xilthera answered, her lower body uncoiling from around him. Her legs clicked against the silk in a slow, restless pattern, her hair still tangled from where his hands had been buried in it moments ago. "That's something from the Deep Thread."
