Buried In Ink

Lyra

My boots scuff against flagstone, the sound echoing as if the walls are listening.

Declan moves ahead of me, his shoulders squared, every line of him sharp with purpose. My head has to crane further back now to look up at him. He hasn’t said much since we stepped inside, but his wolf is pressing hard, restless. I feel it in the bond.

“You think there’s anything in here worth keeping?” I ask s