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With our path clear, we began our journey towards the stables, each step filled with purpose.
As the first light of dawn began to filter in, I knew that the truth of our escape would be discovered any minute.
We needed to hurry.
The creaky oldcorridors of the mansion felt like an endless labyrinth, each one almost identical to the next.
With Anlon leading the way, Madison and I silently followed our senses on high alert.
With every step, the soft carpet underneath muffled our footsteps, its thick fibers tickling the soles of my feet.
A blend of musty smells — aged wood, old tapestries, and distant hints of candle wax — permeated the air, reminding me of the mansion’s storied history.
As we turned a corner, I caught a glimpse of the imposing figure of the Silverback, still guarding our room.
He was unnaturally still, eyes fixated on the door, as though he were engaged in a silent battle of wills with it.
Even from this distance, the strong, musky scent of his presence was palpable, a unique aroma that marked his kind.
Adrenaline pumped through my system, but I kept my focus.
Pulling Madison closer, we stayed in the shadows, moving stealthily.
My heart raced, each beat echoing the rhythm of anticipation.
It was the sound of Onshev’s distinct voice that sent a shiver down my spine.
The timbre of his voice was unmistakable, like a sharp blade hissing through the air.
As each new hallway we came to, I kept Madison at my side around the corner until Anlon gave the signal that it was clear and we could follow him.
Anlon approached another corner, and raised his hand to signal it was clear when Onshev suddenly emerged from an adjacent doorway, his steps confident and deliberate.
Upon seeing Anlon, he approached with an inquisitive look, his piercing eyes scanning the older Chi.
I tightened my grip on Madison, readying myself for the inevitable confrontation.
The familiar weight of my own strength and the memory of my scales’ resilience were comforting, yet there was no denying the tension that bubbled up.
I could feel Madison’s heartbeat, fast and frantic against my chest, a reminder of our shared vulnerability in this moment.
“Anlon,” Onshev greeted with false friendliness, his voice dripping with faux amiability. “Early for you, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you up before dawn before.”
Anlon, with a grace I hadn’t expected, responded smoothly. “Couldn’t sleep. The memories of this old place, you know. Thought I’d revisit some rooms.” He paused, giving a theatrical sigh. “The weight of nostalgia can be quite heavy at times.”
Onshev’s eyes, sharp as shards of glass, glared at him.
Suspicion lurked beneath his smooth exterior, but Anlon’s casual demeanor seemed to throw him off balance.
I coiled my muscles and was ready to pounce, every nerve tingling with anticipation, every scent heightened, every sound amplified.
Then, to my surprise and relief, Anlon added:
“I heard shuffling around in one of the other rooms. Who might your guests be? Relatives?”
Onshev’s eyes narrowed. “Hardly,” he sneered, but he seemed to buy into Anlon’s ruse. “Just some… associates.”
Anlon chuckled, a sound as raspy as dry leaves. “Ah, I see. Well, I won’t keep you.”
