Page 13 of The Panther's Price

The Veil didn’t part like a curtain.

Itpulled.

It hummed in her blood, in her bones. Like a song written just for her, played so low it made her teeth ache.

Evryn stood at the edge of Grayridge, the world behind her turning to rot and static. Before her, the alley shimmered—barely. Just a flicker to the left of reality, a stutter in the corner of her eye. Most people would pass by without a second glance, just chalk it up to smog or bad lighting.

But Evryn had the Sight. She saw it for what it was: a Threshold.

Not a place, exactly. More like an invitation.

Beyond the shimmer lay the Veil Dominion—the other world, the hidden one. The realm of shifters, of Houses and Thrones and shadows that moved on their own. She didn’t know the names of all the places inside it, but she’d glimpsed pieces: cities blooming underground, temples grown from obsidian and whispering moss, old cathedrals tucked into cliffs where the sun never touched.

It didn’t belong to humans.

Butshehad never really felt like one, had she?

The dream had led her here. That same silver-eyed figure, waiting in a garden made of ash and memory, whispering without words. This time, he hadn’t disappeared. This time, his hand had reached back for hers.

So here she was, fingers trembling at her sides, the markless charm pulsing faintly against her chest.

Behind her, boots crunched gravel.

“Evryn,don’t,” Eamon called out.

She turned to him slowly. His coat flapped in the wind like something alive, and his jaw was tight, eyes darker than she’d ever seen them.

“I have to,” she said softly.

“No, youthinkyou have to. That’s not the same.”

“Eamon, Ifeltit. The dream. The place. This… pull.”

His voice dropped. “And you think it’s leading you to answers?”

Her jaw tightened. “Yeah. Ido.”

He took a step toward her, hands out. “Girl, you don’t know what’s past that line. You think Grayridge’s bad? The Veil’s worse. There are laws over there older than god, and none of ‘em are kind.”

“Iseeit. I’vealwaysseen it. This was never just about hiding from them. It’s aboutknowing who I am.”

“Ev—”

Then it happened.

A blur. A rustle. Too fast. Too wrong.

A figure dropped from the rooftop behind Eamon—glamoured, sharp-edged, shifting like oil over glass.

Evryn’s scream ripped out before her brain caught up.

“EAMON!”

He spun too late. A blow landed, something hard and electric that dropped him to one knee. His hand went for his weapon,but another figure materialized behind him—two more, teeth flashing in the half-light, not human, not right.

Veil mercs.

House-branded ghosts.

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