I didn't sleep.
I lay in the dark for hours, wrapped in the heavy warmth of Caspian’s body, watching that thin thread of black magic pulse on the other side of the room. It was patient, hovering near the edge of the leather couch like a predator waiting for its prey to move. Every time Caspian shifted in his sleep, the shadow would shiver, reaching out a fraction further before recoiling when it sensed my presence tangled with his.
It was tied to his isolation. Morgessa had woven a spell that needed him alone to take root, and that realization made my blood run cold.
By the time the first pale light of dawn began to bleed through the windows, the shadow had finally retreated, slithering back into the closet doorframe as if it had never been there at all. But I could still feel the oily
