The candlelight in Ariana’s chamber wavered, shadows curling like whispers against the stone walls. She sat at the edge of her bed, her thoughts snarled and restless.
The dungeon visit had left her shaken. The prisoner’s laugh—half-broken, half-reverent—still scraped against her memory.
Blood Luna.
Two words that should mean nothing, yet throbbed inside her like a secret she had always known but never dared to name.
Kael had asked nothing when he walked her back, though his hand had lingered at the small of her back, heavy with unspoken claim. She hadn’t told him. Something in her gut warned her not to.
Now, in the silence of her chamber, she tried to steady her breath. The hearthfire crackled softly. All was still. Until—
A soft sound broke the quiet.
The faint drag of paper slidin
