Saoirse
It’s in the morning—soft light slipping through the tall, unfamiliar windows, casting warm streaks across the stone walls of the room I woke up in. For a second, I forgot where I was.
Then came the knock.
“Time to eat!” Ezra’s voice rang through the wooden door like a goddamn alarm clock—minus the polite option to snooze.
“Coming!” I called back, hurriedly combing through my half-dried hair with my fingers. My stomach had been protesting since dawn, and the scent of something warm and buttery seeping through the hallway had me scrambling into my boots.
Ezra stood outside the door, arms crossed and smirking like I was his charity case. “You always this slow or just dramatic because you’re starving?”
I rolled my eyes. “You’d be dramatic too if you almost died and then woke up i
