ARIA POV
Alaric guided us out of the Cage.
He didn’t hesitate, didn’t second-guess a single turn—like he had already mapped every corridor in his head, like he had burned the way out into his bones the second we stepped in—and within minutes, we were outside.
Fresh air hit my lungs.
Hard.
Sharp.
And for a second it felt like I hadn’t been breathing at all down there, like everything I had taken in until now had been something else entirely—fear, magic, rot—
Not air.
Not real air.
Out here, it should have been different.
Cleaner.
Lighter.
But it wasn’t.
Because one thing followed us out.
Blood.
It clung to my skin.
To our hair.
To the back of my throat like it had settled there for good.
I felt Drake stir in Alaric’s chest, his hand tensing in mine.
Something was wrong.
