Kiara Pov
I woke up, and my brain just couldn't make sense of a damn thing.
My back wasn't pressing into cold stone or damp, rotting straw. I was sinking into something soft. Unbelievably soft. The heavy blanket wrapped around me felt like silk, warm enough that my eyes almost dragged shut again.
Did I die? Is this it?
I opened my eyes, blinking against the pale light filtering through high, sheer curtains, staring up at a dark wood canopy. Then the smell hit me crushed pine, winter air, and that cold, metallic edge.
The King’s room.
The memories didn't drift back; they slammed into my chest like a brick. The dining hall. The echoing laughter. Zayn handing me off to those two scums like I was trash. The streak of silver steel, the sickening copper smell of blood in that cramped bedro
