VALERIE.
The moon had risen high, but I couldn’t sleep. The air felt heavier tonight, as if something unseen pressed against the walls of the palace. I lay beneath silk sheets, the scent of jasmine in the room doing little to calm the unease twisting in my stomach. I turned and stared at the ceiling. Every breath felt shallow. Every rustle in the wind outside made my skin prickle. My wolf was uneasy. My child was still.
Too still. I slid out of bed, barefoot, and walked to the window. The gardens below swayed gently. Nothing moved. Nothing breathed.
But I felt it, something had shifted and it wasn’t over.
“Her body is still recovering from the spirit trial,” Madam Rose told the court physician, who frowned as he read the results from the rune-charts. “She’s burning magic too quickly,”
