Ayla
Spread wide across the coverlet, parchment glinting pale like bones pulled from earth, ink bleeding secrets I had fought to keep buried. The comb lay near his hand, its teeth catching the light, and in that moment it looked less like ivory and more like a blade, like something that had already tasted blood.
His eyes found mine then black storm, black steel and the sight ripped the warmth from my bones so fast it left me hollow, trembling in the doorway like a child before a pyre.
“Ayla.” My name fell like ash, soft but edged, and the sound of it scraped through the silence with a weight that made the walls lean closer.
I moved to speak. I didn’t. Couldn’t.
He closed the distance in two strides, his shadow swallowing the firelight until there was nothing but him, his breath iron-s
