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Some walked with confidence.

Others hesitated, already sensing they had stepped into something far beyond comprehension.

Fresh blood.

The scent hit me like a blow.

The hunger surged so violently I dropped to one knee, breath tearing from my lungs in a ragged snarl.

Focus.

Control.

I forced it down—but then the scent sharpened.

Refined.

Singular.

Her.

Oh yes.

There was no mistaking it now.

I did not know how I knew.

But I knew.

The pulse was steady.

Strong.

Threaded with something ancient that did not belong to the living alone.

Death.

Grave soil.

Ghost-light.

My head snapped toward the courtyard.

Through the sheets of rain, I saw her.

Small against the vast expanse of rune-carved stone. Dragging a suitcase across the slick ground, her movements deliberate, unaware—or perhaps unwilling to show she understood exactly where she had arrived.

Lightning flashed.

For a brief, searing moment, the world stood still.

She paused.

Lifted her head.

Looked directly toward the tower.

Toward me.