“Alli, baby,” Ashton crooned, his voice warm and poisonous. “Show your big brother a little taste of what happens when someone disappoints me.”
The air changed.
A swirl of darkness crept out from Allison’s still body like smoke pulled from a wound. The room grew cold—bone-deep, soul-deep. My breath caught. My vision blurred.
Then the shadows swallowed everything.
I staggered back, blinded, the temperature dropping until it burned. I reached for my sword.
There was no sword.
No marble.
No throne.
Only ash in my lungs and the scent of blood—thick, metallic, real—coating the air like a memory I’d never escaped.
Stone took shape beneath my boots. Velvet curtains lined cracked walls, soaked in red. My father’s study.
I was home.
But not how I remembered it.
Screaming cut through the air.
“THORNE!”
High. Panicked. Raw.
I turned—and saw her.
Allison.
She was crawling across the floor, blood smeared down her back. Her dress was shredded, her knees scraped raw. Her fingers stretched toward me, clawing for help.
“I’m here!” I yelled. “Alli—I’m here—”
She wasright there.
I reached for her—
And something struck me from the side.
I hit the ground hard. Stone bit into my shoulder. Boots slammed into my ribs. Another. Another.
I tried to get up—but hands dragged me back, cold steel biting into my wrists.
I was restrained.
I washelpless.
Through my spinning vision, I saw the Sentinels, draped in blood-red. Faceless. Towering.
They grabbed her by the ankles.
She screamed my name—screamed for me—and I couldn’t move.
I couldn’tmove.
