She didn’t look at me, but her reply came sure and unwavering.“We’ll figure it out. Together.”
For a moment, standing in the heart of a lost world, with ancient power humming beneath my feet and betrayal echoing off sacred stone, that promise was the only thing keepingme upright.
And I would burn the world down before I let this temple take her from me.
Hadrian moved first, like the temple belonged to him.
He walked across the courtyard with his shoulders back and his head high, boots striking stone that should have been pulverized by centuries and salt and pressure, but it was pristine. That fact sat wrong in my mind. Ancient places did not stay clean by accident.
Artemis stepped forward at my side, jaw set. She kept her gaze on the ground, on the channels cut into the courtyard, on the symbols that repeated in careful intervals. Her focus was so sharp it made the rest of the situation seem less scary. I felt more confident with her by my side.
I angled my body closer to hers, using my shoulder to shield her from the men flanking us. I could not stop them from marching her forward, but I could make it harder for anyone to reach her without reaching me first.
Hadrian glanced over his shoulder. “Try not to slow us down, cousin.”
I didn’t answer. I watched Artiemis’s hands—they were steady. I watched the line of tension in her mouth. I watched her absorb every detail like she was building a map inside her mind.
“Stay close,”I sent to her.
Her reply came at once, calm and precise. “I am close.”
That should have amused me. It did, in the smallest possible way. It also made my chest ache. Mere minutes ago, she had kissed me. Then she had been taken from my reach as if it meant nothing.
It meant everything.
We crossed the threshold.
The temple entrance was an opening framed by two columns carved with scenes I could not fully parse. Dragons. Humans. That third figure repeated again and again, tall and narrow, hands raised as if directing the flow of water itself. The carvings were detailed enough to make my fingers itch with the urge to understand.
The first step inside changed everything.
The sound shifted. The temperature remained steady. The world stopped feeling like ocean and started feeling like contained pressure, controlled by rules set long before any of us existed.
The antechamber opened wide, vast enough to swallow a gathering of clans. Columns lined the perimeter in perfect symmetry. Channels cut through the floor like a design, not an accident. Water moved through them in thin streams, glowing faintly, fed by something below. A central platform sat at the far end, raised and marked with concentric rings and glyphs that pulsed gently under the stone, steady as a heartbeat.
Hadrian lifted his chin, pleased. “Secure the space.”
His men spread out at once.
Artemis went still beside me. Her head turned, small movements only, tracking patterns. The wear marks on the floor. The direction of the channels. The places where the stone looked polished by contact.
I leaned closer. “What do you see?”
“The channels,” she said quietly. “They’re not built like drainage. They’re… responsive.”
One of Hadrian’s men stepped onto a raised tile near the center.
I saw Artemis’s shoulders tense.
“Stop,” she said, louder.
Hadrian did not turn. “Keep moving.”
The tile shifted downward.
The water changed direction.
It happened with no warning and no drama. The thin streams in the channels reversed at once, the glow intensifying, the flow speeding up as if the temple had made a decision.
