{ Avina }
Morning light crept through the heavy curtains, pale and hesitant. I hadn’t slept. Not really. Maybe an hour, maybe two, in fragmented pieces that left me feeling worse than if I’d stayed awake. I sat up, my body aching, my eyes gritty and dry. My hair was a tangled mess over my shoulder. I looked like hell.
A soft knock at the door made me jump.
“Miss Sinclair?” A female’s voice, muffled through the wood. “I have some deliveries for you.”
I stood, crossed to the door, and opened it. A young woman in servant’s clothes stood there, holding a silver tray. On it sat a sealed letter, a small ornate box, both bearing the Blood King’s seal in crimson wax, and my phone.
“From His Majesty,” she said, offering the tray. “He apologizes for the necessity of confiscating your phone. He
