Ivy
The moon hung low and silver outside the tall windows as I moved quietly through the wide hallway. Every step sent a sharp jab of pain through my twisted ankle. I gritted my teeth, refusing to let it slow me down. I needed to get out of Leon’s room. Away from him. Away from everything that made me feel trapped.
I didn’t want to stay there another night. His room wasn’t mine. It was cold and dark in a way that cut beneath my skin, a constant reminder that I was a prisoner—his prize, but still a prisoner.
I limped toward my own door, the one I’d barely entered since the wedding. The polished wood gleamed under the moonlight. I fumbled with the key, my fingers stiff and clumsy, but finally managed to turn it. The door creaked open, and I took a deep breath, ready to retreat to the room
