The entrance to the Shadowed Path yawned before them—a narrow, jagged tunnel carved deep beneath the earth. It was old. Older than the ruins above, older than the witches themselves.
The air inside was wrong.
Heavy. Dense.
Like stepping into a grave that had never been sealed.
Liam's instincts screamed at him to turn back.
But they had already made their choice.
There was no turning back now.
The moment they stepped inside, the walls shifted.
Not physically—no stones moved—but the space itself changed.
The path twisted, warping like a living thing.
It felt deeper than it should have been.
The shadows stretched longer.
The air turned thick.
Stacy exhaled sharply. "I hate this already."
Trevor smirked. "Getting scared?"
"I don't get scared," she muttered. "I get pissed off."
Ragnar, walking ahead, sniffed the air. His body tensed immediately.