Chapter 28: Where the Walls Remember

The white light didn’t fade so much as collapse inward—shrinking from all sides until it funneled into a single blinding point. Ava felt Jace’s arms tighten around her, felt the tremor in his muscles as he braced them both against whatever force was pulling.

Then—

Silence.

Cold.

Stillness so absolute it pressed against her eardrums.

Ava blinked hard. Her surroundings bled slowly back into form—blurry shapes sharpening into stone walls, a high ceiling, and a narrow, arched corridor she’d never seen before.

Jace was still holding her, chest rising and falling fast, his fingers locked around her waist like releasing her might unmake him.

She swallowed, voice hoarse. “Jace… where are we?”

He didn’t answer immediately. His eyes darted across the corridor—dark, blue, too bright, too alert—searching for movement, shadows, anything.

“I don’t know,” he said finally. “The house moved us.”

Ava steadied herself enough to step back—only slightly—but the moment she broke even an inch of c