SCARLETT

The first thing I felt was earth.

Cool, damp, heavy. The scent of soil and pine filled my lungs before my eyes even opened. My fingers curled into moss, soft as velvet, grounding me in a place that pulsed with wild, primal energy.

When I forced my eyes open, the world above me glowed in muted amber. Not the sky, not the moon but stone ceilings painted with strange runes, lit by torches that burned without flame.

I pushed myself up, groaning. Every muscle in my body ached, my skin ...