Chapter 33. The Unbinding

The stair behind the Oathstone groaned as it opened.

No one spoke.

Each step spiraled downward into the earth, carved from rock that bled light. The scent was older than ash—sulfur, bone, forgotten metal. It wrapped around Seraya like memory, tightening with every breath.

Ronan descended first, torch in hand, as if the path belonged to him by birthright.

Seraya followed. Mairead and Veyra flanked her. Rael, Letha, and two guards held the rear, weapons drawn. No one trusted what waited below—nor the man who had claimed to be family.

The air thickened. The stair narrowed. Walls closed in like a throat. Even Mairead—unshaken by death—pressed her hand to the stone for balance.

“Feels like something’s watching,” she muttered.

“It is,” Letha whispered. “This place was made to bind. I