I lay flat on the wooden bed, staring up at the ceiling I could barely see in the dark. The thin mattress beneath me did nothing for my back; every plank pressed into me like it was mocking my existence. I pulled the blanket tighter around my body, wishing it could smother the creeping unease slithering through me.
I hated this.
The silence wasn’t silence at all. The island breathed in ways I wasn’t used to—crickets chirped, wind brushed against the thatched roof, and somewhere in the distance, something hooted. Every sound made me tense. Every shadow felt alive.
And Zed wasn’t here.
I hated him for that. I hated him for leaving me in this creaky room like I wasn’t a guest, like I wasn’t—well, me. If I’d been home, I’d be in my room at the mansion. My bed would’ve been silk sheets and
