Blakely’s POV
Rubbing my tired eyes, I toss a journal into the read pile on the floor beside me, which is finally larger than the unread pile.
I have been at this for three days and my head is starting to hurt from squinting at the small handwriting.
Standing, I stretch and walk over to throw another log into the fireplace that Jake had started for me when he came in to have dinner with me.
The temperature is rapidly dropping around here, and no one seems concerned by it, except for me.
No one knows about the bloody battle in the snow, except for me.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I close my eyes and sigh. I am desperate to go for a run, to go to training, to do anything but read these damn journals. But I need to finish them, I need to control my powers so that whatever premonit
