I didn’t sleep that night. Not really.
Even after the storm had passed and the guest lay unconscious behind the silk-draped doors of his private quarters, my heart refused to calm. Every creak of the rafters overhead felt like the approach of boots. Every gust of wind against the window felt like a guard’s breath at my neck.
I lay still beneath my blanket in Hal and Donda’s shed, staring into the dark, listening. The room was quiet, except for Hal’s familiar snoring and Donda’s soft rustle as she turned in her sleep. I couldn’t help but wonder if they knew what I’d done. What had almost been done to me.
I pressed a hand to my side. The mark pulsed faintly beneath my skin, still warm from the power it had awakened. Whatever restraint had once bound it, something had shifted. The bond wit
