Warmth from the glowing hearth floods the cramped room, a relief from the cold outdoors. A modest wooden dresser presses against the wall beneath a frosted-over window, a simple wooden chair nestled beneath it, both residing to the right of—my stomach sinks—a lone bed.

  I linger in the doorway, willing another to appear.

  Rael peers over my shoulder, his breath fanning my neck. "One bed," he croons. "Interesting choice."

  I let him walk past. "I got us a room, didn't I?" I'm not sure if it's the fire warming my skin or if it's the underlying tone in his words.

  "And conveniently forgot to mention wanting two beds?" He snickers, setting his things down.

  "You can have the bed if you want it," I grumble.

  He shakes his head, already undoing the straps of his armor. "I'll take the chair. I don't require much sleep like you delicate humans do." His gaze dances over me, teasing. "Especially not ones raised on silk sheets and feather pillows."

  I cross my arms, scoffing. "I'm not delicate."

  "Of course not," he agrees far too quickly, swiftly tugging his shirt over his head, revealing toned muscles and scarred skin.

  My brain stutters. I spin away so fast I nearly topple over. "Could you—warn me before doing that?"

  "You saw more at the pond." He states smugly.

  "That was--that was accidental," I stammer, keeping my eyes fixed on the dingy wall.

  He chuckles mischievously. "If it helps, princess, you're welcome to look."

  "I'm going to sleep." I huff, though I can feel his eyes watching my every move.

  "Am I that distracting?"

  "Goodnight, King's Blade," I grumble, burrowing beneath the thin blankets. Exhaustion weighs on me, but his mocking grin lingers behind my closed eyes, making sleep frustratingly elusive.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  I'm running.

  My silken white gown is torn, the golden embroidery shredded by twisting branches as I scramble through the blackened forest. My breath comes in ragged plumes. My bare feet scrape against exposed roots and sharp stones, but I don't falter.

  I can't.

  My crown grows heavier with each stride, threatening to drag me to my knees. I rip at the veil tangled in my hair, discarding it behind me. My lungs burn. My legs scream to stop. But I don't dare look back.

  Because he's coming.

  "Selene."

  His voice slithers through the trees like a phantom.

  "You cannot run from me."

  A shadow moves in the corner of my vision. I veer left, heart hammering, but the sound of pursuit is everywhere—hoofbeats pounding, growls shredding through the night. The air shifts--the forest vanishes.

  Fire erupts around me, a ring of scorching heat that stops me in my tracks. I spin, coughing on the smoke curling into my lungs. The trees are gone.

  I stand in the ruins of Elyndria.

  My kingdom burns before my eyes. The palace walls crumble, its citrine banners reduced to cinders. The streets are slick with blood, bodies strewn like broken dolls. Screams pierce the air—Elyndrian voices, desperate and dying, swallowed by the clash of steel and the guttural roars of demons.

  I whirl around, searching, panic surging in my veins.

  And then—

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  I find my father.

  Standing on the battlefield, sword in hand, his golden armor dented and stained red. He fights with everything he has, cutting down the monsters that rush him. But there are too many.

  A shadow looms behind him.

  I try to scream, to warn him, but my voice is gone—suffocated by the horror squeezing my throat.

  Claws pierce through his back.

  My father gasps, a sound so small, so fragile. He stumbles, sword slipping from his grasp. His crown tumbles from his head, rolling through the blood-soaked dirt.

  He crumples.

  A broken sob tears from my chest. My knees nearly buckle.

  But then I spot my brother.

  He's standing at the edge of the battlefield, his sword clutched too tightly in shaking fingers. He's shouting something, eyes wide, face pale.

  He doesn't see the demon behind him.

  I shove past the wreckage, the bodies, the flames.

  "Vinnie!" I cry, his name ripping from my throat.

  He doesn't hear me.

  The demon is too fast.

  I run harder, faster—my lungs burn, my legs protest, but I don't care. I have to reach him. I have to stop this.

  He spins.

  Our eyes lock, just as the demon's sword plunges through him.

  The impact jerks his body, his lips parting in a strangled cry. Blood spills from his mouth.

  I reach him just as he collapses.

  "No," I choke, catching him, lowering him into my lap. His blood is everywhere—warm, sticky, staining my hands, my dress, the ground beneath us. "No, no, no, Vinnie, stay with me—"

  His eyelids flutter. His lips part.

  "You never should have run."

  The words slice through me, colder than the wind howling through the burning city.

  Another shadow looms over us.

  I lift my head, my blood running cold.

  Rael.

  He stands above me, his crimson eyes burning with fury as his claws slip out of his fingertips. His features twist into something murderous, something monstrous.

  "You did this," he says, his voice razor-sharp. "You doomed them all."

  I shake my head, my body trembling. "No... no, I didn't—"

  He steps closer, the flames casting jagged shadows across his face, making him appear more beast than man. His expression hardens, lips curling into a feral snarl.

  "You failed them."

  His claws flash through the air.

  I don't even have time to flinch before the killing blow lands—

  My body jerks upright. The sheets stick to my skin, damp with sweat. My lungs feel too small, my heart slamming against my ribs as if trying to break free. The scent of blood and smoke still clings to my senses, a phantom of a dream that won't let go. I clench my trembling hands into fists. It wasn't real. It wasn't real.

  A hand grips my shoulder, steady, grounding.

  "Princess."

  My head snaps toward him, and in the dim firelight, I catch the sharp concern in his ruby eyes.

  "Are you alright?" He asks, softly.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, resisting the urge to shrink away.

  "I'm fine." The lie comes out a pathetic whimper.

  He doesn't move. "You're crying."

  'You never should have run.'

  I swallow hard, turning away as I wipe at my cheeks. "It was just a dream."

  Silence stretches between us. I brace for him to press, to demand more—but he doesn't. Instead, he lowers himself onto the edge of the bed, fingers tapping idly against his knee as he stares into the fire.

  I risk a glance at him. He doesn't meet my eyes when he finally speaks.

  "There's another reason I don't like sleeping much."

  The quiet rasp of his voice sends a shiver through me. I hold my breath, afraid that any sound might shatter whatever fragile thread is pulling him toward honesty.

  "It's always the same dream. Nightmare, really." A pause. "My mother... she was slain right before my eyes."

  His chin dips, gaze fixed on his lap as though he can still see it—still feel it.

  "A memory I can never outrun."

  He doesn't elaborate, but he doesn't have to. I see it in the tension locking his shoulders, in the way his fingers curl, like the phantom of that night still lingers beneath his skin. A wound that time never saw fit to close.

  I want to reach out—to offer a grounding touch.

  But I don't.

  "Easier not to sleep at all," he murmurs.

  "I--" I swallow the lump in my throat, "I dreamed about you."

  Rael turns to me fully this time, his eyes sharp. "What?"

  I don't want to say it. Not when my mind still feels tight with it, not when my stomach twists with the awful weight of it. But I do.

  "You... killed me," I admit, breathlessly. "In my dream."

  He stills.

  I wrap my arms around myself as if that will keep me from trembling. "My family--dead--and my kingdom—" I choke on a sob, eyes burning, "it was all in ruins. Burning. And it was my fault." My throat constricts. "They were dying because of me. It was all my fault."

  But the worst part wasn't the fire or the blood. It wasn't even the way my father and brother fell before my eyes.

  It was him.

  The way he looked at me, like I was nothing but a mistake—a failure.

  I turn my head, stealing a glance at him in the dim glow of the fire. His hands are steady on his knees, his eyes unreadable but quiet, contemplative.

  'I was afraid then--but not anymore.'

  I'm not afraid of him, but--

  I swallow against the guilt rising in my chest. "You found me." The words quiver as they leave me. "You told me I failed them. And then you—" I shudder, unable to get the words out as fresh tears spill down my cheeks.

  Rael moves so fast that I barely register it. His fingers find my chin, tilting my face up to meet his eyes.

  "I'm not going to hurt you, Selene." His voice is steady, but his brows knit—exposing something raw, like the idea of me fearing him once again is more unsettling than he'll admit.

  I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a blade--caught between trust and treachery.

  Fear takes hold of my tongue. "What if your king demands it?"

  His grip lingers and a muscle ticks in his jaw.

  But he has no answer.