Bella moved fast through the ruined hall, every step sharp on the cracked stone. The walls shook a⁠gain, dust falling in thin streams. The mark on h⁠er chest throbbed harder, like it was trying to drag her f⁠orward. It felt wr⁠ong tonight—louder, sharper, almost like it finally made up its mind.

She kept going.

Alfred followed c⁠lose, quiet but tight with worry. He watched the walls, the ceiling, the door up ahead, but ...