Rhett:
Isadora has been in bed all day. I sat by her side as long as I would stand, but seeing her small, fragile body so weak and fragile make me want to tear the castle apart brick by brick until I found the cause of her sudden collapse. The sun had finally set when I slipped out of the room under the guise of needed to hunt. I just needed to run, chase, blow off some of this pent up rage.
The sky tastes like iron tonight.
I can smell the storm before I see it—ozone, damp stone, the sour tang of something foreign riding the wind. Ashwyck’s wards hum low around the perimeter, a vibration in my bones that should be steady and sure. Instead it falters, a heartbeat skipping.
I roll my shoulders, every nerve sparking. The moon is nothing but a thin, dirty coin behind the clouds. Good. Dar
