Chapter 71
Chapter seventy-one
Everly
Istare into the cavern’s shadows, pulse hammering violently in my ears, the surge of blood rushing through my veins like a warning—sharp, urgent, impossible to ignore.
The air feels dense and oppressive, shadows clinging stubbornly to every surface.
The torches along the walls flicker wildly as if a storm is brewing inside.
The magic imprisoning the Shadoweaver is clear before me—a shimmering veil of ancient power, vibrating just four feet away.
It pulses with energy, and like opposing magnets pushing against each other, the force repels me, keeping me from drawing closer.
“Where?” I ask, peering up at Maxon.
I can feel his magic, its wildness flowing from him in waves. He wants to storm in there and fight, but he’s holding back.
“She’s in there. What worries me is we haven’t seen the demon,” he murmurs in a low growl.