As I shift under the layers of furs, I glance at the empty space beside me. The house feels so large, so quiet without him here. My fingers curl into the edge of the blanket. He said this was his home... and mine. But if it’s his, why hasn’t he come back yet?
I try to push the thought away, to convince myself it doesn’t matter. He’s out there somewhere, probably fussing like Elder Aïna said. Or maybe tending to something important. I shouldn’t expect him to return.
I’m tired—too tired to wrestle with these feelings—so I focus on my breathing, letting it lull me into sleep.
I did the right thing tonight. I think. I hope. Elder Aïna’s approval felt like the first step forward. And maybe... maybe I can learn to take the next step too.
My breaths slow, and I let myself sink into the warmth of the furs, the softness wrapping around me like a cocoon. It feels like the house is sheltering me, as though it knows I need this.
The darkness is choking me. I gasp for air.
No. No. No.
It comes in flashes: Theron’s claws slashing into Arnold, the snarl ripping from his throat, the sound of flesh tearing. Blood pooling, dripping into the earth. Arnold’s scream echoes, loud and raw, fading into nothingness as Theron delivers the final blow.
I can’t move. My legs are frozen, my voice locked in my throat. All I can do is watch as the life drains from Arnold’s wide, terrified eyes.
“Theron!” I scream, but no sound escapes my lips. He doesn’t stop. He’s unstoppable, his massive body coated in crimson, his eyes cold and detached. He’s not the Theron I know—he’s something else entirely.
A monster.
Then his head snaps toward me, his gaze locking onto mine, fur matted with blood, teeth bared in a snarl.
I take a step back, tripping over the roots of the forest I don’t see, and he lunges toward me. His massive claws reach out??—
My body jolts upright, and I wake with a desperate need for air. Each erratic beat of my heart slams against my ribs. It hurts.
My chest heaves as I clutch the fur blanket to me, feeling its dampness from the sweat clinging to my skin. Goddesses. It was a nightmare.
Willing myself to breathe, I press a shaking hand to my chest and fight to remember where I am. I’m in Ávera. In the house Theron grew for me. Not in the forest. Not with Arnold.
The handkerchief!
I immediately reach under the bed-nest. It is there. Oh, thank the goddesses.
The room is dim, the glow of the stones on the walls soft, as if they too are waking with me. My fingers tremble as I run them through my hair, damp with sweat. My skin feels clammy, the air around me too cold despite the furs I’m wrapped in. I look to the side, noticing the cloak-like blanket Theron made me from his fur lying nearby. I shiver.
Eyes closed, I suck in deep breaths to calm the storm inside me. It’s over. Arnold is gone. I’m safe. But the safety feels fragile, like it could shatter at any time.
Knock, knock.
The sound startles me, and my eyes snap open. It takes me a moment to register that it’s the door.
“Your Majesty?” A female voice.
Knock, knock.
“Is everything alright? I’m coming in.”
I exhale, running my fingers from my face to my scalp. “Yes, come in,” I say, my voice barely carrying. “Come i??—”
The door opens, and Mina steps inside.
Right. They can hear everything. I straighten my back instinctively, and the furs tumble from my shoulders onto thebed. The cool air brushes over my bare chest, and heat rushes to my cheeks. Panic sets in as I pull the furs back over myself. “My apologies, Mina,” I blurt out, my voice quicker than my thoughts.
She rises from her mid-bow, her expression calm, as though unbothered by my naked body. “You seem distressed,” she says.
I clutch the furs tighter around me. “Oh, don’t worry about it. Everything is just... a lot.”
