Chapter 45
My tower feels cool as the twilight deepens outside. The window has no shutters or covering, so the wind and chill come in at all hours. The sounds come in too. That means whenever Bronson the ogre curses down in the courtyard, I hear it.
I’m too tired to care. I nearly fall into bed.
I snuggle up good and close to my warm body. I get as close to it as I can without actually going inside. I’m no longer wet—I dried as soon as I crossed the barrier—but I’m chilled all the way through.
No matter how cold it is outside, my body seems to be enchanted to be warm. I’ve never seen gooseflesh on my arms or seen my lips turn blue, even in the coldest of winters.
I look at the prick on my finger. There’s still a dried smear of blood on my fingertip.
It seems incredibly unfair that I
