The inside of the cave shimmered like a dream carved from light.
The air smelled faintly of rain and something sweet—like crushed petals soaked in dew.
The walls were veined with glowing blue moss that pulsed gently, almost like the heartbeat of the mountain itself. From above, the waterfall cascaded through a natural arch, splitting into a thousand silver threads that poured into the pond below.
And gods, that pond.
It wasn't just water—it was light made liquid. Every ripple shimmered with pale silver, and the mist above it hung suspended like a halo. Small glowing insects drifted through the air, wings glimmering sapphire and violet. They danced lazily in the moisture, leaving behind trails of faint luminescence that flickered like drifting stars.
Isabella stood at the entrance for a long moment, wide-eyed, her chest rising and falling as her breath caught.
"Okay," she whispered, blinking hard. "This is—wow. This is not what I expected from a murder mountain."
