Rain whispers against the windows like it’s trying to get in.
The farmhouse feels too still tonight—every creak of wood, every sigh of the wards loud against the silence. Grams has gone to bed hours ago, and Bella’s soft breathing carries faintly through the cracked door down the hall.
But I can’t sleep.
Every time I close my eyes, I see the Council’s chamber: the ring of thrones, the heavy scent of ash, Shane’s eyes glittering when he looked at me as if he already owned me. My stomach turns at the memory. The only thing that cuts through it is the steady hum of the wards outside and the faint pull in my chest that always, infuriatingly, points toward William.
He’s downstairs. I feel him before I see him, like a shadow folded inside the house’s heartbeat. I wrap a blanket around my sho
