Even covered, the sheets don’t hide much. The way it clings to her, the curve of her hips, that perfect ass pressed into the mattress. It’s enough to make any man go hard in an instant. And I’m certainly no exception. I move closer, slow and silent, my shadow stretching over her as a warning, or a promise.
I could watch her all night. Every breath, every damn inch of her. I’m drinking her in like a dying, dehydrated man or a psycho. That’s when I see it, three faint scars, claw-like, trailing down her right shoulder. Looks like an animal attack. My gaze snaps back to her face, and suddenly, I get hit with a jolt of déjà vu.
As if I’ve seen this... her...before.
Who are you?
Faint whispersof another life. Back when everything was golden and clean, before blood stained the halls, and everything we knew got swallowed by fire and steel. I remember that night, barefoot troublemakers tearing through the castle, laughter echoing off marble. Wyll hot on my heels, Alek and Sammy trailing behind us. We were just dumb kids playing tag as if we owned the place. And then came the scolding, Wyll’s mom giving us hell for leaving out Freya and her friend… Luna, I think. Small, watchful, always just... there, in our shadows.
We practically lived at the palace. Since the Institute was just a street over. It was our playground while the adults were in meetings. So when the Queen walked in, all tall and calm. Wrapped in that valkyrie armour laced with gold, you sure as hell shut the hell up andwatched.
Queen Camyla Eilgolor didn’t need to shout. She was a presence all on her own. Serene, graceful, but youfeltthe steel underneath. Her golden winged helmet caught the light as if it were made to wear the sun. She was asymbol, and like all symbols, once it served its purpose, it was put to rest.
But… here’s what doesn’t sit right.
As I stand watching Avilyna sleep, somethinghitshard, a hammer to the skull. A headache slices through me, quick and brutal, right as the thoughts crash in.Freya’s friend looked familiar, too damn familiar. As if she’s always been there, more often than the glimpse of what’s left in my mind. Hiding in the corners of my memory, just out of reach. Except that her features were always blurry, unclear. Like my brain’s been tiptoeing around the truth for years. Liquid tickles down my chin, wiping my skin. The back of my hand comes out tinted red, a nosebleed—weird.
It’s been over a decade since everything changed.
And Wyll’s manor?
Not a single portrait is left, no reminders, no ghosts on the walls. He made sure of that. Said it was too painful on that day, we decided that living under the General’s roof wasn’t worth it. We came in the middle of the night, drunk out of our minds, after a lecture that turned into cigarette burns. My dad declared that at fifteen, I should know how to defend a pub from mercenaries who decided the waitress owed them more than a meal.
So after uncovering the furniture, dusting the mantels and casting one or two runes to get rid of the spiderwebs and the vermin. Wyll started removing the portraits, so Caleb and I followed suit, and in thirty minutes, no memories of the past were left. Except for the house’s humming, the bones always remember.
But Iknowthat Luna girl wasn’t part of Wyll’s family. Not by blood, it’s like there was a cloak around her all this time. A curtain that kept her hidden. Yet the feeling she left in me, like she was important and not just a classmate friend, is rooted deep, bone-deep.
What’s strange is that I remember the Queen vividly, clear as day. Even after all these years. Even though every trace of herwas burned, buried, or forgotten after the Bloodmoon War. She always had that peaceful smile. That same calm presence that made you want to stand straighter. And now, staring at Avilyna. Really looking at her while she sleeps, all that fire stripped away, it’s a punch to the gut.
She looks so much like her.
Same eyes. That same captivating shade of green, too sharp, too clear, like they’ve seen more than they should. My brows tighten; everyone knows the royal family died that night. I was there, Isawit happen. Fire, blood, screaming, no one walked out of that. And they only had a son, Alek.
So tell me…
Who the hell is this girl?
17
Avilyna
WAFFLES AND PROTEIN
I’m honestlyshocked I didn’t wake up as an ice sculpture. Mental note: never fall asleep with the balcony doors wide open unless I want to freeze to death in my own bed. Reluctantly, I peel myself out of my bed, cocooned in my sheets, dragging them with me like some kind of reluctant burrito. First mission of the morning: close the damn doors and stop the arctic breeze from turning my room into a walk-in freezer. Shuffling toward the doors, only to trip over something that was definitely not there last night.
“Great”. I grunt from the floor. Trying to untangle myself from the bedding wrapped around my legs like a vengeful snake. And then I see it, my gym bag.
Wait...
What?
Why is it here?
Kai, he must’ve come back.
Buthow? I warded the doors. I know I did, ugh. Obviously, I messed it up again. At least I got my stuff back. Small victories, right? And maybe today I’ll actually get to take a hot shower without feeling like I’m being punished by the universe.
After tryingto wash away all my worries, I start working the moisturizer into my damp hair, trying to ignore the growing ache in my chest. It’s a small task, rhythmic, grounding, one knot at a time. Then comes the curl cream. A familiar ritual, comforting, even in its simplicity. I flip my head to the side and run my fingers through my curls, trying not to let my thoughts spiral.
