Perhaps it had been nothing more than the stretch of shadow across an uneven wall.
Perhaps not.
As he stepped back into the corridor, the thought lingered with him, a whisper brushing the edge of his mind.
The shadow had been watching.
And shadows, once they found their mark, did not let go.
Lucian's steps slowed. He glanced once over his shoulder, but the corner was empty—emptier than it had any right to be.
Silence pooled thick in the hall, the kind that swallows even the sound of breath.
He moved forward, deliberately slower now, each step echoing like a taunt.
If something or someone was there, they would follow.
And when the faintest shift of air brushed the back of his neck, Lucian turned down a side passage without warning.
The chase had begun.
