Chapter 54. When Wolves Forget the Moon

She didn’t intend to follow him.

She told herself that, again and again, as her boots echoed behind his. Told herself it was curiosity, maybe strategy. Anything but what it really was—the raw, breathless need to see what he had become when no one else was watching.

The northern chamber was half-buried beneath the Archive’s foundation, tucked behind a false shelf and sealed with old song-script. When Royce touched the frame, the ward glowed silver—a key only he could offer.

Inside, the air was dry and silent, like it had been holding its breath for years.

It was a small room, oval and bare. No windows. No books. Only a single basin of water that glowed faintly blue, and a stone bench pressed into the wall like an apology. Royce moved to the bench and sat slowly, the fatigue of the past hours finally dragging him down like a weight.

Adria stayed near the door.

She could have left. Should have. But she didn’t.

Royce leaned forward, elbows on hi