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> Beneath the earth where shadows weep,
And silent hearts their secrets keep,
Love burns still, through pain and fear—
Even the dark must draw love near.
🌹🌹🌹🌹
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The dungeon stretched before them like the throat of some ancient beast—dark, breathless, and cold. The air reeked of damp stone and sorrow, and each step echoed like a memory refusing to die. The faint torches lining the walls struggled to stay lit, their flames shivering as though frightened by the silence itself.
Horace led the way, tall and composed, his presence as commanding as the Alpha he was. His movements were graceful, predatory—yet his voice, when he spoke, carried warmth meant only for her.
"I would like to hold your hand, my love," he said softly, reaching toward her. "The floor is slippery, and I would rather bruise my pride than let you fall."
