Shirley
The smell of smoke clung to my hair the next morning. No matter how many times I scrubbed, the faint trace of fire and blood lingered, ghosting me like a warning I couldn’t shake.
I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my reflection in the cracked mirror leaning against the wall. Dark circles bruised my eyes, and the faint red glow beneath the rune on my neck pulsed like a heartbeat that wasn’t mine. Every time it flared, I thought of Dr. Myles’ words—something is awakening inside you.
It should have felt empowering. Instead, it terrified me.
I tugged a sweater up to cover the mark and forced myself to move. Hiding wouldn’t change anything. Dante wouldn’t stop digging for the source of the rogues, Asher wouldn’t stop circling with his half-truths, and Elias… well, I didn’t ev
