Alina paced the length of her chamber until the soles of her feet ached, the hem of her nightshift whispering against cold stone. The walls pressed in, breathing shadows with each flicker of torchlight. She couldn’t close her eyes. Not after the council’s venomous threat, not with Seraphine’s smile carved into her memory, not with the mark beneath her skin pulsing like a live coal. Every time she stilled, she swore she heard whispers—threads of sound seeping from the corners, searing into her skull. She shook her head to scatter them, but they coiled back twice as strong, hissing of fire, hunger, eternity.
Kael leaned in the doorway, a figure cut from shadow itself. His cloak pooled darkly behind him, his face half lost to the dim light. He had been standing there for some time, watching
