Lucia
Lucia woke to a sliver of sunlight cutting through the window of her small room.
For a moment, she felt a quiet, simple peace. Then the memories of the previous day crashed down on her: the letter, her mother’s words, Ragnar’s kiss, his dark offer, his even darker warning.
The peace was shattered, replaced by the heavy weight of her new reality. She could no longer trust the Blackwood wolves.
A soft knock came at her door, and Briar entered, red hair in a long braid down her back, wearing a blue dress that matched her eyes.
“Willow’s in,” she whispered, a conspiratorial glint in her eyes. “She’s so excited she’s practically vibrating out of her skin.”
“How are you feeling? You were restless all night,” she said, walking towards Lucia, face softening with concern.
“Sorry a
