Cassian
I keep reading, turning page after page, feeling their roughness on the tips of my fingers. From time to time, a yawn finds me, and the heaviness in my eyelids warns me that it's time to rest.
I close the book cover, leave it where I found it, and take refuge under the sheets, searching for the most comfortable position. I had barely closed my eyelids when a gust of icy air hit my face. At first, I think it must be one of the many drafts that sometimes pass through the castle, but this feeling lingers so much that I’m forced to sit up in bed.
I let out a sharp scream at the presence at the edge of my bed.
He’s wearing his shirt open down to his sternum, the front stained with what at first I would have taken for wine. The metallic smell tainting the air tells me otherwise. His
