And then… a faint vibration trembled through the stone beneath them. Barely perceptible at first—like the hum of something vast and distant. A soft rattle passed through the goblets on the table. Somewhere far off, a muffled crash rolled like distant thunder.
No one spoke. Even breath felt too loud.
The tremor faded, leaving only the pounding of their own hearts.
Renna clutched Lareth's sleeve, her knuckles white. "What was that?" she whispered.
No one answered. Even Maleus, who had been the loudest moments ago, sat frozen, his eyes locked on the reinforced door.
Another tremor came—stronger this time. The iron sconces rattled against the walls, the lamplight swaying wildly. Somewhere above them, something heavy crashed to the ground with a deafening clang, followed by the faint sound of stone crumbling.
Then came the noise.
A deep, slow scrape—metal against stone—like something impossibly large dragging itself across the floor. It echoed through the halls, closer with every heartbeat.
Cale rose to his feet, sword already in hand. "That's not Rythe or Seris."
"No," Aurean murmured, eyes narrowing. His senses sharpened—the air had shifted, heavy now with the faint, acrid scent of burning. The Verethian at his side pulsed faintly, reacting to something beyond the door.
Then—three booming knocks.
Not frantic. Not human. Each strike made the walls quiver, dust sifting down from the ceiling.
Kael stepped back instinctively. "That's at our door."
The knocks stopped. A pause—long enough for the silence to turn suffocating. And then, in the faintest whisper, they all heard it.
"…open…"
A voice—if it could be called that—dry and hollow, as though spoken through a mouthful of ash.
Renna's hand found Lareth's again. Aurean's grip tightened around his weapon, his chest a knot of dread. The siblings looked to him, but for once, he didn't have an answer—only the knowledge that whatever was on the other side of that door… was not meant to be here.
The fourth knock came—and the iron hinges screamed.
The fourth knock reverberated through the chamber, and the iron hinges groaned as if they were being pulled apart from the inside.
Renna pressed herself closer to Lareth, and Vaela gripped Astrid's arm so tightly the bones might bruise. No one breathed.
The doorframe bulged inward with a sickening creak. Long, blackened fingers—too many joints, too sharp at the tips—slid through the gap between the wood and the stone, feeling along the edge as though savoring the moment before entry.
Aurean stepped forward, sword drawn, the faint hum of Verethian echoing in the air like a heartbeat. "Get back," he ordered quietly, though his own pulse roared in his ears.
The siblings obeyed, but not far enough to ease the tension. Their eyes stayed fixed on the door as the creature's claws scraped downward, leaving long, smoking gouges in the wood.
Then came the sound—wet and guttural—like meat tearing. It growled low, and the growl turned into something almost like a laugh.
Kael swallowed hard. "Aurean—"
But before the name could leave his mouth fully, the thing on the other side slammed its weight into the door. The bolts shuddered, the stone frame cracked, and the entire chamber shook. One more hit like that, and—
A sudden roar—not from the creature, but from beyond it.
Steel clashed against something dense and unholy. Sparks hissed in the narrow gap of the doorway, illuminating a dark figure beyond. The growling turned into high-pitched shrieks, cut off again and again by the sharp rhythm of blade meeting flesh.
Then, a voice they all knew—rough, controlled, and cold with battle.
"Stay where you are!" Rythe's command rang out over the chaos.
They didn't see the fight—only shadows on the far wall, the blur of movement, the wet crunches and snaps that followed. The smell of burning intensified until the air felt thick.
Silence fell—save for one final, heavy thud.
A moment later, the blackened claws withdrew, limp. The doorframe stopped groaning.
Through the small gap, Rythe's face appeared—smeared with ash and streaked with sweat. His eyes scanned them quickly, checking they were whole.
Without a word, he shoved the creature's body aside and stepped back into the hall, blood still dripping from his sword.
"I'm not done out here," he said, and disappeared again into the darkness before anyone could speak.
The silence he left behind was heavier than before.
After what happened, the chamber seemed to exhale all at once. Shoulders sagged, lungs finally dragged in air that had been held too long. The oppressive pounding in everyone's ears faded, replaced by the hurried, purposeful steps of the knights moving in.
Two of them came in carrying thick planks of wood, their armor still splattered with soot and streaks of black ichor. Without a word, they set to work on the battered doorway—hammering, reinforcing, and sealing the warped frame. Each strike of the hammer rang like a heartbeat, loud in the still-shaken silence.
Thalan sat limp in his chair, his eyes unfocused, hands slack in his lap as though even holding them up was too much. Maleus knelt at his side, speaking in low, careful tones, a steadying hand on his shoulder. But Thalan barely seemed to hear him.
At the far end of the room, Lareth had gathered Renna into his arms, holding her so tightly it was as if he could keep the world at bay through sheer force. She buried her face into his chest, her trembling muffled against his armor. His gaze stayed fixed on the newly reinforced door, jaw clenched as though daring it to give way again.
No one spoke above a whisper. Even with the gap sealed, it felt like danger was just on the other side of the wall, breathing and waiting.