Waking up in an unfamiliar place is one thing. Waking up dressed in a silk nightgown you don’t own, in a room you’ve never seen, surrounded by opulence that feels more like a trap than comfort—that’s another thing entirely.
I sit up slowly, the silk sheets whispering against my skin as I glance around. Everything is rich, detailed—almost regal. Purple curtains frame tall windows, and antique paintings of war scenes line the walls like memories of violence waiting to happen again. A marble statue in the corner depicts two warriors locked in combat—one with a blade, the other with bare hands. But what strikes me most is that they look identical. A battle with one’s reflection.
A low buzz hums in my gut.
This place is not just strange. It's dangerous.
I throw the covers off and plant my f
