Page 1 of What Beats Within the Tunnels

Chapter

One

Iwake with a gasp, and my nostrils are immediately stung by a harsh, acrid scent.

Instinctively, I recoil, feeling the overwhelming aroma constricting my senses and triggering an involuntary cough. As I blink rapidly and clear my head, a woman comes into focus, a bag of salts in her hands. Even through my disorientation, I can’t overlook how stunning she is, her vibrant red hair tumbling over her shoulders in harmony with her crimson eyes.

“Sorry for that,” she offers, moving to a counter with a sink close by. “I was growing quite bored waiting for you to wake up.”

I rub my eyes, still struggling to find my bearings. This image of my father’s blue-green eyes lingers in my mind. I was so close to finally speaking with him in Zomea and then…salts?

“What happened? Where am I?” I ask while trying to sit upright.

I take stock of my surroundings and see I am in some sort of medical facility. I glance around the room, scanning the shelves on my right brimming with bandages and tinctures, yet my gaze is drawn to the shelf holding an assortment of knives. An unwelcome reminder of Samael comes to the forefront of my mind.

I inhale deeply, an effort to bury the memory for now. I return my attention to the woman in front of me.

“Who are you?” I ask. I know she is a Lamia from her red eyes, but the only one I’ve ever met was Citlali. Gods, I hope Nyx killed her after I left. The thought of her blood on my tongue makes me want to vomit.

“I’m sorry for being rude. My name is Drew,” she replies, advancing toward me with a warm smile. Under the flickering candlelight, strands of her hair transition from red to a vibrant shade of violet. My hand involuntarily gravitates to my chest and my thudding heart.

Thoughts of Chepi flood my mind, and I have to swallow the lump in my throat before the tears have a chance to fall down my face. I mentally rebuild the barriers around my heart and remind myself I will get Chepi back.

“Where are we?” I ask again, folding my hands in my lap.

“Do you not recall channeling to my realm? Adira must have hit you over the head harder than I thought,” Drew responds, her brows knitting as she looks me over.

“Of course I remember channeling here, but I don’t know where exactly we are now. How long was I unconscious?”

“You’ve been unconscious for a mere few hours. I apologize for the abrupt manner of your capture. Adira has a tendency to hit first and ask questions later. I asked Soren to tend to your wounds while you were out. Despite him being a mortal, he possesses many potent salves and concoctions and is exceptionally adept at stitching wounds,” she explains while placing her hand under my chin, guiding me to meet her eyes.

The gesture reminds me of Nyx, and I try to ignore the pang in my chest.

“Ah, yes. There’s a touch more color in your cheeks now,” she observes, releasing my chin gently.

“Are we underground?” I ask, taking in the peculiar acoustic environment. Our voices seem to resonate uniquely, as if the sound is slightly warped. Rumors claim Drew’s castle in the Mad Territory is merely a façade, her true stronghold lurking beneath it. I’d always wondered if the tales of this place were true. The thought of living underground has always been unsettling to me.

Gods, I never thought I would leave Tempest Moon, let alone find myself here. My life since meeting Aidan is like a whirlwind of chaos and heartache. Aidan—his name makes bile rise in the back of my throat. Then I remember his death, and the delicious feeling that memory brings me should probably concern me more than it does.

“You ask a lot of questions. If I am to satisfy your curiosity, perhaps we should relocate somewhere more comfortable so you can see for yourself,” she suggests, gesturing toward an open doorway before vanishing around the corner. I scramble to my feet, the room spinning momentarily as I trail after her.

Rounding the corner, I find myself tailing Drew. Gods, she really is tall, slender, and strikingly beautiful. She’s gorgeous yet terrifying when I consider what she is. It’s hard to imagine she’s over a thousand years old but doesn’t look a day over forty. Mortal men must fawn over her, ready to offer up their veins in a heartbeat.

We head down a dank, narrow corridor. Moisture seeps from the walls, and a musty scent hangs heavy in the air. I reach the end of the hall and step into an enormous amphitheater. Its scale surpasses anything I’ve ever encountered. Cascading staircases twine around the walls above and below as far as the eye can see, and countless doorways punctuate the labyrinthine hallways. Wall sconces are regularly placed, illuminating the space. The wavering candlelight projects a sea of shadows, revealing an enormous, subterranean Lamia hive.

The sight and scale of this place take my breath away. I never could have imagined such a place existing. I’m drawn to the edge of the stairs, peering into the abyss below. A fall from here would mean instant death. The bottom, if it exists, is lost in obscurity.

“Keep up.” Drew’s voice echoes from several tiers below. I hadn’t realized I let her get so far ahead of me, my attention lost to the haunting allure of this place. I quicken my pace to catch up with her, all while keeping a close eye on my feet and staying close to the wall. A clumsy step could seal my fate.

We travel down countless tiers, each a carbon copy of the last. At the base of each flight, I glance down the shadowy corridor only to be met with identical damp walls and oscillating candlelight, no other souls in sight. How far down does this underground hive stretch? I used to think the bunker Nyx and I once shared underground was unsettling, but this…this is on a much grander scale and even more terrifying.

Suddenly, Drew veers down a hallway, and I let out a sigh of relief. My legs are heavy with fatigue from the relentless descent, and the further down we go the harder my heart pounds in my chest. The anxious feeling I get from being so far underground is impossible to block out this far down.

In the distance, I see a man leaning against the wall. I match Drew’s brisk pace as we approach him.

“Soren, prepare Lyra’s chambers,” Drew instructs, her tone stern yet infused with a honeyed sweetness that makes me wonder what the dynamic is between these two.

Soren is the mortal man who helped heal my wounds, and the Lamia are known to mate with mortal men. Maybe there’s a romantic relationship between them. Soren acknowledges her command with a nod and vanishes down the hallway. I shake the thoughts out of my head. I don’t need to waste time trying to decipher their rapport. I need to focus on unlocking the bridge. Drew pushes the towering metal door open, and I trail behind her into the room.