Hope
That dream felt real—so real that I still feel the ghost of it on my skin, the hum of the bond pulsing faintly through my chest like a heartbeat I almost forgot belonged to me. For the first time in weeks, I felt him—my mate.
Keith.
His touch. His voice. His promise.
And when I woke, that thin silver thread between us glowed just a little brighter, as if the dream had breathed life back into something dying.
It’s enough to give me a renewed sense of purpose. Enough to make me remember who I am—and who I need to become if I’m going to survive this place.
The sound of the lock turning jolts me from my thoughts. Camille’s footsteps echo down the hall before I even see him. He moves like he owns every inch of this cursed palace—and he does.
“Hope,” he says smoothly as the door ope
