The cavern did not close around Aurelia.
It listened.
The moment after recognition stretched unnaturally long, the air thick with a presence that refused to be rushed. The glow threaded through the stone walls dimmed slightly, settling into a steady pulse that echoed her own heartbeat. Whatever had acknowledged her was not retreating—but it was no longer pressing forward either.
Aurelia remained still.
She had learned the cost of moving too quickly when power was watching.
The Warden stood several paces behind her, his posture rigid, breath shallow. He remembered this place—not personally, but through warnings passed down like scars. This chamber had existed long before the pack, before the council, before anyone alive had believed themselves capable of ruling what slept below.
"This is where it always ended," he said quietly. "For those who tried."
Aurelia did not turn. "Because they tried to command it."
"Yes."
