The bliss of Evanna's sleep shattered the moment her eyes fluttered open.
The soft weight of the heavy furs, the earthy scent of moss and aged stone, the distant trickling of water—it all welcomed her back to the surreal world she had been thrust into. Yet the comfort of her pallet was no match for the chaos swirling in her head. The night before came rushing back like a tidal wave, dragging along the scent of Thorne’s closeness and the sound of his deep, rumbling snores filling the chamber.
Evanna lay there, stiff and brooding, staring at the jagged ceiling overhead. The glowing stalagmites bled pale amber light into the room, making shadows dance like restless spirits. She didn’t belong here. That much was certain. But neither did she belong in Thorne’s bed—or his life. And yet, she wa
