Sarafina's POV
The walls were breathing again.
Not literally—THOUGH
but that's how it felt.
Like the stone itself inhaled when I did, exhaled when my pulse broke into a frightened sprint. Every surface hummed with that soft, eerie silver glow that had followed me since the dream.
Since the woman called me daughter.
Since Thalen called me something I refused to be.
Princess.
My stomach knotted.
I pressed a shaking hand to my temple.
"Stop," I whispered.
But my thoughts didn't listen. The wards didn't listen.
And somewhere beyond the stone walls—
Cassian's energy thrummed like a heartbeat.
Alistair's like a distant storm.
They were really here.
Trying to break in for me.
The realization made something hot and painful bloom in my chest.
I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to anchor.
It didn't work.
A spike of silver shot down my spine—sharp, bright, wrong.
"Ow—!" My knees buckled.
The world wavered.
The room tilted.
And then,
The memory hit.
Not gently.
