Goddess Of The Underworld (Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 117

Chapter 117

Envy

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I woke to Underworld morning, no sun, but a clean, pearly light unfurling down the

corridors and that steady, low hum of the kingdom’s heartbeat. Noah was already propped on an elbow beside me, listening the way he does, like the stone itself can brief him if

he’s quiet enough.

“Hawk says the wards purred all night,” he murmured, mouth curving. “No prying. One curious sniff on the net around two, Elliot tucked it back to sleep before it finished the

thought.”

I blinked fully awake at that. “He didn’t wake us?”

“He shouldn’t have had to.” Noah kissed my forehead. “Proud?”

Always. We dressed and padded the short hall to Elliot’s room. His door felt warm under my palm; the layered wards, Levi’s lattice, Noah’s banked heat, Elliot’s vines recognized me and smoothed open. The room wore its sky like a favorite sweater, constellations lazing, a comet drag–tail slow. Layah lifted her head from the foot of the bed, eyes bright, chin still on the frame: “your pups are safe.”

On the bed, two lumps under one blanket: a blonde haired boy and a wolf pup of a girl, their fingers tangled, Fergus the bear wedged in the middle. Elliot stirred first, went very still the second his eyes found me and then smiled, that soft, relieved smile that

unthreads every knot in my

chest.

“Morning,” I said quietly.

“Morning,” he whispered back, like we might spook the comet if we were too loud. Macey made a soft clicking sound and burrowed closer to him, which made Fergus slip, which made Elliot catch Fergus, which made Layah huff approvingly. It was the tiniest chain reaction, and I wanted to bottle it.

“I brought pancakes,” Noah announced.

Macey’s eyes popped open. “I smelled them,” she said, then blinked around. “Where…”

“Underworld,” Elliot said, as gently as breath. “My room. It’s okay.”

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Chapter 117

She considered that. “Okay,” she decided, and immediately tried to feed Fergus a corner of pancake when Noah lifted the lid.

They ate tucked under the blanket and by “ate,” I mean honey ended up everywhere, including Elliot’s cheek and Fergus’s ear and somehow, improbably, Layah’s eyebrow. It felt right.

“Tell me about the ‘sniff‘ at two,” I said at last.

Elliot’s lashes flickered. “Something brushed the ward. Not a pry. Listening. I fed the net a little warmth, and it went away.”

“Good,” I said, because his instincts had been perfect. “Right call.” I glanced at the door. “We’ll have Levi look anyway.”

“I’m already here,” Levi said from the threshold. He stepped in, sleeves rolled, fingers already faintly bright with sigils. “May I?”

Elliot nodded and slipped his hand into Levi’s without hesitation. Levi closed his eyes and tasted the room the way we do, top layer to bottom, ward to ward. The sigils blooming at

his fingertips were neat and spare, nothing wasted.

“There,” he said after a beat, and swept two fingers through the air. A thread the width of

a hair lifted, silver and soft, quivered like a plucked string, and settled back. Levi didn’t touch it. “Not hollow,” he said to me quietly. “Not the brittle hunger we felt on the rogues.” Levi’s eyes stayed on the shimmer hanging over the lintel. “Not hollow,” he said again, voice clipped. “And not wolf–work.”

Noah shifted closer, Hawk’s attention pressing forward through him like a weight behind his ribs. “Then what?”

“A seeker–weave,” Levi answered, tilting his head as if listening to rain. “Somebody spun

magic to follow a specific resonance. It doesn’t force doors or bite wards. It sniffs. When it catches the right signature, it trails it.”

My stomach went cold. “A specific resonance… Elliot’s.”

The thread quivered, an almost–sigh drawn toward the bed, toward the boy with honey on his cheek and a wolf pup of a girl tucked into his side. Layah’s hackles lifted in one slow ripple. I set my palm to the frame; the ward’s hum steadied under my skin. Elliot didn’t

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flinch. His fingers tightened around Macey’s, but his eyes stayed on the shimmer, clear. “It wasn’t trying to get in,” he said softly. “Just… find me.”

Macey blinked up at us, sleep–drunk and very serious. “We came here with you,” she said, like she needed the record corrected. “Envy and Noah brought us.”

Levi’s eyes warmed. “Yes. Lesson one: mirror–snare.” He conjured a shallow dish of black glass that drank the comet’s light. “If a seeker touches your ward, ask the ward to keep a reflection of it. Not the whole thread, just a hair. Enough to study.”

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