The shadows stretched long across the floor of Michael’s chamber, the heavy silence punctuated only by the sound of his own steady breathing. His hands curled into fists as he moved toward the far side of the room, where an ornate wooden wardrobe stood against the stone wall. He had known this room well before it was his—it had belonged to his brother, and his brother had been cunning, always keeping a way out, a path unseen.
Michael placed his palm against the side of the wardrobe, feeling for the hidden seam. With a slight push, the back panel groaned, revealing a narrow passageway that led into the dark. He took a step forward—but stopped. Something unseen and unfathomable coiled around his body, anchoring him in place. His fangs bared instinctively, his power rising to meet the force that held him back.
A spell.
His mind worked quickly, fingers tracing over the air as he called on his own magic, whispering an incantation under his breath to dismantle whatever bound him. But i
