Zane pov.
“Any report?” I kept my voice low.
“One altar behind the cave,” Tyson said. “We’ve got men watching it. You want to check it out?”
“How do we lose the guards first?” I asked, already feeling the small hairs on my neck lift. Footsteps shifted. I gave a quick hand signal. “They’ll lead. I’ll lure the watchers away.”
We melted into the underbrush, watching the others move out and draw attention. When the sounds of fighting moved away, I pulled Tessa with me. We cut across and came around behind the cave. The altar sat where Tyson had said—stone slab, circular grooves carved in twin moon lines. Blood grooves. Old, precise.
Tessa stepped closer. “What is this?”
I crouched for a second, memory clicking into place. “Soul-trapping pattern. Old book… I read about it. It seals and ho
