I woke to the sound of breathing that wasn't mine.
Slow. Controlled. Too close.
For half a second, panic flared—then I remembered where I was. The cabin. The forest. Santiago, asleep on the floor beside the bed, one arm bent awkwardly beneath his head.
He was already awake.
I could tell by the way his breathing shifted when I moved.
"You feel it too," he said quietly.
I frowned, sitting up. "Feel what?"
He didn't answer right away. He was listening—but not to the woods. Not to the night. His attention angled downward, like the world had developed a second direction I hadn't noticed before.
The Veil was still there. I could feel its pressure at the edges of my thoughts, familiar and unpleasant.
But something underneath it—
Wrong.
Muted.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed. The floorboards creaked beneath my weight, one of them dipping slightly more than the others.
Santiago stiffened.
"Wait," he said.
Too late.
The board shifted, exposing a narrow gap beneath it. Cold air breathed up through the crack, carrying the scent of stone and earth.
Not forest.
Not outside.
Below.
We stared at it in silence.
"This cabin…" I murmured. "It's built over something."
Santiago knelt, brushing the loose board aside. Beneath it—stone steps, descending into darkness, edges worn smooth by time.
No markings. No warnings.
Just depth.
"This isn't recent," he said. "Whatever it is."
I hesitated. Every instinct screamed don't. Not danger—something worse. Unknown.
Still, I stepped closer.
The Veil tightened, like it was paying attention now.
We descended carefully, Santiago first, one hand hovering near me but never quite touching.
The deeper we went, the colder it became.
Then—
The pressure vanished.
Not faded.
Stopped.
I missed a step, breath leaving me in a sharp gasp.
Santiago turned instantly. "Eliza?"
"I—" I swallowed. "Do you feel that?"
He went very still.
Slowly, he closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, something in his expression had changed.
Wonder. Shock. A trace of fear.
"There's nothing," he said. "No pull. No resistance."
I pressed a hand to my chest. My thoughts felt… uninterrupted. Whole. Like a noise I'd grown used to had suddenly been cut off.
Blank.
Not peace.
Absence.
"Oh," I whispered.
We stood there, staring at each other like we were seeing the same impossible thing from opposite sides.
Without the Veil between us.
Santiago stepped closer.
He didn't stop himself this time.
His hands framed my face, grounding, reverent, like he needed confirmation I was real in this place.
"You're—" His voice broke. He cleared his throat. "You're not echoing."
I laughed softly, breathless. "Neither are you."
The kiss happened without permission or planning. No hesitation. No restraint snapping.
Just relief.
It felt different here—deeper. Slower. Like our bodies remembered something the world above had stolen.
When we finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against mine, eyes closed.
"We shouldn't stay long," he said.
"I know."
Neither of us moved.
Eventually, we climbed back up.
The Veil rushed back in all at once—sharp, intrusive, angry.
Santiago felt it immediately.
His hands fell away.
Distance returned like armor snapping into place.
The man who loved me was still there.
But the guardian had reclaimed his ground.
We didn't talk about what we'd found.
We didn't need to.
We both knew—
There were places the Veil could not reach.
And now that we'd discovered one, it would never stop trying to take it from us.