Take a peek.

Forcing herself to breathe, she pushed the door open. The room looked the same as she’d left it—small, sparse, and unassuming. The bed was loosely made, the thin blanket flung across the surface. For a moment, she thought maybe she’d imagined it. Maybe she’d been so tired she’d dreamed of the stone.

But when she stepped closer, she saw it—a small bulge in the sheet, as if it belonged, dark and unyielding beneath the pale fabric.

Her first instinct was to leave it. To hrab the Old Words, walk away, and pretend it didn’t exist. But she couldn’t. In nagged relentlessly at the edges of her mind.

Carefully, she pulled the blanket back. The stone sat there, still as ****. Its surface was smooth and cold, but Cerina knew, deep down, there was more to it.

“Why are you here?” she whispered.

She reached for it, her fingers hovering just above the surface. She hesitated, then **** herself to grab the stone, expecting the pulse to startle her once again. But this time, there was nothing. Just the chill of its smooth surface against her skin. Her shoulders sagged in relief.

But as she considered its weight in her hand, it pulsed. Not visibly. Just the surface of the stone like the faint beating of a heart.