Chapter 25
- Rhea’s POV
- The air in the catacombs tasted of pulverized granite, black powder, and raw sulfur.
- The stone ceiling above us groaned under thousands of tons of shifting mountain, dust raining down like ash into the pitch-black corridor. Beside me, Jaxon’s hand was a vice around my wrist, pulling me up out of the rubble. Even in the dark, I could see his eyes—they weren't golden anymore. They were two burning spheres of pure obsidian, his inner wolf pressing so violently against his skin that I could hear his bones shifting, preparing for war.