He slammed into the pile of cushions with bone-jarring force, the impact driving the air from his lungs. For a split second the world spun, then Liam bounced upward like a stone skipped across water. Instinct took over. He twisted mid-air, feet planting firmly on solid ground as the momentum bled away. His chest heaved, heart hammering against his ribs.
'Not dead yet,' he thought, a grim flicker of relief cutting through the adrenaline. But the relief lasted only a heartbeat.
A deep, guttural roar echoed from somewhere below, vibrating through the ancient wood beneath his boots. It wasn't just sound—it was pressure, a primal challenge that made the hairs on his arms stand up. Liam's head snapped toward the source, eyes narrowing as he scanned the network of tunnels branching deeper into the colossal tree.
This had to be the worm Citra had warned him about. The one that had plagued her people for generations.
