The elevator hummed softly as it ascended, the sound low and constant like a distant memory refusing to fade. Zaira Veyrin gripped the chrome railing in the corner, knuckles white, her balance unsteady. Her breath came in slow, deliberate draws as she stared at the flickering floor display, though she wasn’t seeing it. The blinding flash from the vault still seared her thoughts—along with the impossible images that came with it.

She couldn’t shake the look in his eyes—Zephyrus. That dark, unreadable stare that held not just secrets, but centuries.