I slam the book shut.
Dust bursts from its edges, swirling like ash from a dying fire.
✧
My hands tremble.
Not from cold.
From the heat.
✧
My body still remembers his mouth, his teeth, his scent—
how I melted in his arms hours ago.
It’s getting impossible to resist.
More and more.
✧
Because if I stop hating, I’ll start needing.
✧
Nina growls—low, warning.
The sound cuts through the silence, sharp as a blade.
✧
I freeze.
✧
Footsteps?
No.
✧
I spin anyway.
Nothing.
✧
Only the castle’s hush.
✧
I turn to the table.
One map.
✧
Every corridor. Every tower. Every hidden stair.
✧
The ink glints faintly in the dim light. Red and black.
✧
My breath catches.
A thin silver line winds through the map, delicate as spider silk.
✧
It starts in the east wing guest room—
