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No thumping beats. No soft sigh of life.

A slow breath, recentering. Lunara felt dreadbeasts when they were near, as if the blood in her veins was repulsed by their very existence. When no warning twisted in her gut, she knew nothing prowled beyond the flickering light.

From all sides, only silence was returned to her.

Lunara’s shoulders dropped a fraction, the vise around her easing. “There’s nothing here.”

“You’re sure?” Brand didn’t bother to look at her or relax.

The evident lack of trust was a knife to the chest. “Positive.” Irritated, she tossed her whip away, the rope of light evaporating like a fine mist. “Any votes on which way to go?”

There were three large offshoots she was able to see without having to work for it, and maybe a couple smaller ones. Various other cracks and crevices might be a way through to somewhere, but the thought of shoving herself into their inky depths turned Lunara’s stomach.

Fern approached the first, head tilted as she stared into its gaping entrance. A shake of her head and she moved to the next, waited, then went to the last. Backing away, she returned to the middle of the cavern and crossed her arms.

After another breathless minute, she pointed towards the second one. “That way.”

For some reason, she hated that it was the one in the center, directly across from where they entered. Too symmetrical. Too good to be true.

“Explain.”

Seems like you’re being accompanied by single-word Brand today.

It made her ache for his greater half, that towering Demon and his stark, confident honesty always a comfort. This version of him was cagey. Suspicious. And it lended a bitter air to his usual Imperial high-handedness that bleeding hurt.

Fern shrugged. “Feels right.”

Magnus mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like, “Weeping Sisters, save me,” before he trudged over to the one she selected and lifted his nose to the air.

“It doesn’t smell like shite, so there’s that at least.” He slumped a bit, shaking his head. “Since there’s fuck all else to go on, we may as well listen to her.”

“Your sparkling confidence in me is noted,” Fern deadpanned.

Apparently, Lunara wasn’t the only one feeling the effects of the characteristic Imperial arrogance.

She focused her own power in that direction, looking for anything stronger in its depths—nothing foul, but nothing promising either.

Good enough.

Decision made, Lunara sent her orbs to light the way and the four of them descended once more.

It was slightly tighter than the last. Steeper, too. A burn started up in her thighs and lower back, the gravel beneath her feet sliding down with every cautious step. On and on and on. Down, down, down.

After what felt like an eternity, another cavern greeted them. It was much like the last, fiery torches and all. Here, though⁠—

“Can you smell that?” Magnus growled under his breath, Pet’s snarling face flashing over his features.

It reeked of death, and Lunara shuddered. She heard Brand’s teeth grinding across the yards between them, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Whether from pique or his own reaction to the scent, she didn’t know.

The first faint prickles of exhaustion threatened when she spread her power out again. Searching. Probing. Waiting. Once more, she came up empty handed.

“Whatever you’re scenting isn’t really here. My magic isn’t sensing anything.”

“Go on, Fern.” Magnus almost sounded excited. “Show us the way.”

At least one of the Imperial Sons has pulled his head out of his arse and is coming around.

Lunara just barely resisted the urge to snort at herself.