The corridor stretched before them like the throat of some ancient beast, its walls glistening with moisture that caught the dim blue light of the enchanted torches. Each step forward felt like a gamble with fate itself. Marcus led the way, his hybrid senses stretched to their limits despite the suppression magic that grew stronger with each passing second.
Kai followed close behind, his broad shoulders tense, muscles coiled and ready to spring. The wolf within him was restless, pacing beneath his skin, desperate to break free and tear through anyone who stood between them and Callum.
"We're not going to make it," Kai whispered, his voice barely audible even to Marcus's enhanced hearing. "There are too many guards. I can smell at least six of them ahead, and the magic is getting stronger."
Marcus didn't slow his pace. "We don't have a choice. The ritual is in its final stages. If we don't reach Callum now—"