The morning air in Kael’s territory was cool and sharp, a faint mist curling between the tall pines like threads of smoke. Ariana woke to its bite against her skin, even through the thick curtains that veiled the large windows of her room. Her sleep had been restless; images of Kael’s eyes trapping hers in the hallway last night kept replaying in her head, each memory tangled with the echo of his voice, low and dangerous, promising things she didn’t understand but couldn’t stop feeling.
She dressed in the clothing laid out for her—soft charcoal trousers, a fitted cream blouse, and a dark cloak lined with fur. The cloak’s weight felt foreign, as though wearing something that declared a position she wasn’t ready to claim. She didn’t want to look like the Luna, not today. But she suspected K
