Page 86 of Forged By Heart and Claws
We moved in silence, the only sound the soft crunch of gravel and the faint, rhythmic scuff of boots on stone. Veralt brought up the rear, his blade out and held low, his eyes flicking constantly across the shadows.
The structure, though battered, had held. There were no cave-ins and no sudden drops, just the rubble and the weight of silence.
“The tunnel’s holding,” I whispered. “We’re fortunate.”
Thalen scoffed under his breath. “If this is what counts as fortunate, I dread what disaster looks like.”
I didn’t answer. The farther we descended, the more the air thickened. The scent of damp stone and old blood still clung faintly to the walls, as if the tunnels remembered too much.
The beasts would be drawn to the Ceremonial Hall where blood, death, and desecration summoned them. With the royal quarters in the opposite direction, we had a narrow window to move undetected.
I hoped Fate wouldn’t play games this time.
After over an hour of cautious progress and switchbacks to mask our trail, we reached the narrow tunnel that would lead us to the royal observatory. The change in the stone was subtle, the rock becoming more polished and intentionally carved. The walls here were smoother, and the ceiling overhead was reinforced. Above, the faint outline of a drop-door was etched into the stone, concealed unless you knew what to look for.
I raised a hand and gestured for the others to stay back.
Stepping forward, I scanned the threshold for signs of tampering or traps. Nothing stood out in the entire fifty-foot corridor leading to the stairs. It was as quiet and pristine as the day it was carved.
It didn't look as if they'd found this route yet. Good.
I motioned for the others, and we moved again. Each step sent a beat of tension through my spine. My pulse thudded, loud in my ears, as we reached the top of the staircase.
At the final door, I removed my keys, unlocked it slowly so as not to make noise, and then pressed a hand against the cold metal handle. A dull cracking sound came from the other side of the door. Someone was in there.
I turned the handle slowly. A warm, golden glow poured in through the growing gap, but so did an acidic stench. It hit the back of my throat like vinegar and rotting meat.
I froze.
My grip faltered, and my jaw locked tight as something unspeakable twisted in my gut. The door trembled beneath my palm, and I felt like I’d been punched in the gut.
CHAPTER 19
Vad
My claws curled inward until their stinging sharpness cut into my palms, grounding me.
The fecking bastard scum.
He had desecrated my observatory.
My precious books, logs, and records lay scattered across the floor and under the table and desk, spines broken and pages torn or bent. The shelves were empty of all their former treasures and were now haphazardly stacked with crushed gems, broken figurines, and shattered jewelry.
And my telescope, a masterpiece of craftsmanship and a representation of the precious bond between my mother and me, was dismantled. Every single piece had been taken apart and strewn across the nearest table beneath the domed window.
He hadn’t just taken over the room. He’d tried to erase me from it.
Every oil lamp had been lit, from the ones on the walls to the hand lamps on the table and desk. The glow caught in the shards of fractured jewelry and cracked crystal, sending glints ricocheting off the ceiling and the domed window above. Some of the light even caught on the telescope lenses and beamed upward. Enchanted objects littered every surface, most of themsplit open or melted down, as if he had been clawing through them for some hidden truth.
The night brandy was gone and the decanter overturned and thrust against a pile of gold and silver jewelry, the two matching cups next to it. The couches had been kicked askew. Pillows tossed aside. Not even the rug had escaped unscathed, with blood or ink streaked across it.
At the center of it all, like a parasite nesting inside a hollowed-out host, stood Colm.
He wore one of my black, embroidered robes. The fine silk swam over his frame, and the sleeves dragged near his wrists as he hunched over a shadow beast sculpture at my desk. He worked the chisel with an obsessive calm. A low hum vibrated from his throat, tuneless and hollow. His filigree silver claw tips gleamed in the lamplight, clicking against the tools.
I gripped the doorframe so tightly that the stone grated beneath my fingers. Rage pulsed through me, molten and merciless. He had violated everything sacred. This room had been my sanctuary. It was here I’d first kissed Briar. Where I’d realized how much I loved her. Where I had retreated when I needed peace.
And now? Now it reeked of him. That sharp vinegar scent burned my nostrils.
