It was nearly silent in the cave.
The fire Levia conjured flickered low now, casting long shadows across the smooth stone walls. Outside, the blizzard had calmed to a soft hiss—snow still fell, but not with malice. For a moment, the world felt still.
Asmodeus lay with his back against the stone, arms loosely wrapped around two of the women pressed against him. Vinea nestled under his right arm, fast asleep, her body tense even in slumber. Asmodea sprawled across his chest, cheek resting over the faded glow of the red sigil burned into his flesh. Her soft breathing tickled his skin.
Levia sat further off, keeping a quiet vigil, her spear resting beside her knees. Lumina crouched near the cave mouth, her hands gently reinforcing the silk lattice she'd woven, each thread glowing faintly with a protective ward.
They were safe.
But then, the sigil pulsed. Just once. Faint. A heartbeat inside, a heartbeat.
Asmodea stirred.
Lumina's eyes narrowed. "It's glowing again," she whispered.
