Page 14 of The Panther's Price

She recognized the flash of House Sablewing colors—black and blood-red. Messengers. Memory thieves. Hitmen in ceremonial armor disguised as leather jackets and shadows. She remembers Eamon teaching her about them.

They grabbed Eamon too fast. One pressed a hand to his temple and whispered a word. Eamon’s eyes rolled back.

“No—NO!”

Evryn ran forward, the Threshold humming behind her like a warning.

The lead merc looked up. His gaze skimmed over her face—then paused.

His head tilted. Recognition flickered in his eyes.

Evryn didn’t think. She turned andran.

Straight into the shimmer.

Crossing the Veil wasn’t like stepping through a door.

It was like being turned inside out.

Her bones went weightless. Her skin burned. Her thoughts felt slippery, like she was trying to hold onto water.

And then she dropped. Hard.

Her knees slammed into soft, moss-covered ground. Air rushed into her lungs like she'd been drowning.

The sky was wrong here—bruised lavender with black clouds curling at the edges. Trees stretched tall and skeletal, their trunks glowing faintly, covered in silver lichen that pulsed in time with no rhythm she could name.

The ground beneath her hands whispered.

Not with words, but with memory.

Welcome home.

She staggered to her feet, breathing hard.

Eamon was gone. Taken.

Her only tether to the world she knew had just beenrippedfrom her life.

And here she was, alone in a forest that hadn’t seen sunlight in centuries, her Sight flashing on instinct, making everything looktooclear.

Branches curled like claws. A cathedral’s spire jutted from the hilltop like a broken fang in the distance.

The Veil didn’t want her here. But something elsedid.

She stumbled down a slope, following a flicker in the fog—a light that didn’t flicker like fire, but pulsed with intent. Her charm glowed faintly against her chest.

She didn't know how long she walked. Time was thin here. Warped.

At some point, her legs gave out and she collapsed near a stream that whispered names she didn’t recognize.

Her breath caught.

There was someone up ahead.

A figure. Standing at the water’s edge. Not the one from her dream. A stranger. Hooded. Tall. Still.

Evryn didn’t move. Her hand crept to her knife.

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