Book 3 - Chapter 8
The darkness was absolute.
It pressed against my skin like a living thing, heavy and suffocating. The runes on the walls pulsed weakly, their glow fading with every heartbeat. Each flicker was slower than the last, like a dying star gasping its final breath. Behind us, the howls rolled through the tunnels, low and guttural, vibrating in my bones. They weren’t just hunting—they were savoring the chase.
Jasper’s grip tightened around me, his breath ragged against my ear. “Stay with me,” he whispered, his voice a blade cutting through the black. “Don’t listen.”
But the whisper came again, curling through the dark like smoke.
Miley…
It was soft, almost tender, but it carried a weight that made my blood run cold. It wasn’t just sound—it was inside me, threading through my thoughts like silk. My name on its tongue felt wrong, like a secret I didn’t know I had.
“Jasper,” I choked, my voice trembling. “It knows me.”
“I said, don’t listen!” His snarl was feral, his arms locking tighter around me as he surged forward. His boots pounded against the concrete, each step a drumbeat in the symphony of chaos. The tunnels twisted like veins, splitting into yawning mouths of black. Every turn felt wrong, every shadow alive.
The whisper came again, closer now, curling around my mind like a serpent.
Miley… come to me…
Oh Miley....come to me Miley......
We hit another junction, and Jasper skidded to a halt. Two tunnels stretched ahead, both pulsing with dying runes, both whispering promises of death. Behind us, the howls rose higher, sharper, almost laughing. The sound of claws on concrete was everywhere now, a staccato rhythm that grew louder with every heartbeat.
“Left or right,” Jasper said, his voice a blade. “Choose.”
I stared into the darkness, my heart pounding, my breath a jagged gasp. Both tunnels were black, both wrong, but the left one… it felt different. The whisper was stronger there, curling through the air like smoke, sweet and poisonous.
“Left,” I whispered, the word tasting like ash.
Jasper didn’t question it. He surged forward, his muscles taut as steel cables, his blade flashing in the flicker of dying light. Shadows moved behind us—shapes gliding, eyes burning, teeth gleaming. The air was thick with fear, a living thing that choked every breath.
The first attack came like lightning.
A blur of limbs and teeth lunged from the darkness, slamming into Jasper with a force that rattled my bones. He spun, his blade carving through flesh and bone, black ichor spraying across the walls. The creature shrieked, a sound that clawed at my ears, and collapsed in a heap of smoke and blood. Another shape lunged, and Jasper met it with a roar, his crossbow snapping up, a bolt slamming into its chest. The rune flared bright, burning through its twisted form, but there were more—so many more.
“Run!” Jasper bellowed, his voice a snarl of defiance. “Run! Now!”
But I couldn’t. I tried to drag my body as far and as fast as I could. I felt the warm press of arms and the scent of Jasper within seconds, and all I could do was cling to him, my fingers digging into his jacket, my breath coming in shallow gasps. He dragged me forward, his muscles straining, his breath ragged. The tunnel became a blur of shadows and flickering light, the air thick with panic. Behind us, the howls rose higher, sharper, almost laughing.
Then the lights died.
The runes flickered once, twice, then went out, plunging the tunnel into blackness so complete it felt like drowning. The darkness shifted, and I saw them—eyes burning like coals, teeth gleaming like knives. They weren’t just hunting.
They were calling.
Miley…
The voice was everywhere now, curling through the dark, soft and sweet. It wasn’t a whisper anymore—it was a song, a melody that wrapped around my bones and pulled. My head lolled against Jasper’s shoulder, my vision swimming, and for a heartbeat, I wanted to go. Wanted to follow that voice into the black.
“Miley!” Jasper’s roar shattered the spell, raw and desperate. “Stay with me!”
I blinked hard, fighting the pull, but the darkness was alive now, pressing closer, curling around us like smoke. Shapes moved in that black—shadows gliding, eyes burning, teeth gleaming. And then, from the left tunnel, something stepped into the flicker of dying light.
It wasn’t like the others.
It was taller, broader, its limbs long and jagged, its eyes burning with a light that wasn’t hunger—it was purpose. Its mouth curled into something that might have been a smile, and when it spoke, the sound was silk and steel.
“You’re late.”
The words froze my blood. They weren’t a whisper. They weren’t inside my head. They were real, sharp, slicing through the chaos like a blade. Jasper spun, his blade flashing, his body a wall between me and the creature. “Stay back!” he snarled, his voice feral.
The creature laughed—a sound like shattering glass. “You think you can stop this?” Its eyes locked on mine, burning like embers in a sea of night. “She’s ours.”
And then came the twist.
The runes on the walls flared—bright, blinding—casting the tunnel in a harsh glow. For a heartbeat, the darkness recoiled, the shadows shrinking back. And in that light, I saw it.
The creature wasn’t just looking at me.
It was bowing.
Not to Jasper.
To me.
“Miley,” it said, its voice a prayer. “The heir of the broken pact.”
The words slammed into me like a freight train, tearing the breath from my lungs. Heir? Pact? My mind reeled, spinning in a whirlpool of terror and disbelief. Jasper froze, his blade trembling in his grip, his eyes wide with shock.
“What does that mean?” I whispered, my voice cracking.
The creature smiled—a slow, terrible smile that showed too many teeth.
“It means,” it said, stepping closer, “you were never prey, Miley.”
I looked at Jasper, while I couldn't see his face clearly in the dark, I could feel the tension pulsing through him.
The lights flickered again, plunging the tunnel into darkness.