The moment they step out of the car, Marsel and Elira are already approaching.
"What took you so long?" he asks, when they get near.
Ace sighs, rubbing his temple. "Dad, we're already doing him a favor by leaving what we were doing and coming here to listen to him. So why should we rush?" His tone is edged with impatience, but he doesn't stop walking.
Kieran doesn't respond, his focus locked straight ahead, expression unreadable.
The pack house prison looms before them, an imposing structure of thick stone walls and heavy iron doors.
It was built for punishment, not comfort, and the air around it is thick with something oppressive, like the weight of all those who have suffered within its walls.
Inside, the atmosphere is colder, darker. The scent of damp stone and lingering pain lingers in the air, pressing against their senses.
The dim lighting barely casts enough glow to chase away the shadows.