The corridor was colder than the rest of Blackthorn House. Nerine felt it in her bones as Kael's hand remained firmly around hers, guiding her silently. He said nothing as they descended a narrow, spiraling staircase carved of old stone, its walls lined with torches that burned with a muted, orange glow. The deeper they went, the more the air thickened with the scent of damp earth, iron, and something else—something bitter and metallic that reminded Nerine of old blood.
Her pulse quickened. She had not expected this. When he had whispered of a surprise, she thought of something far lighter—an unexpected kindness, perhaps, or some revelation about his world. Instead, she was being led into the bowels of the mansion, into a place that felt as though no sunlight had ever reached it.
