The lighthouse blinks across the sea, its beam cutting through wind that whips my hair across my face, tangling with the unease clawing at my ribs.
I step onto the edge. Balance. Breathe. Not to jump, just to feel something that isn’t hallow.
Smoke. Heat. His voice in the dark. The ghost of it curls around me even now.
Without him, I feel unlit. Empty of the fire that burned through every rule I was raised to follow.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, pulling me away from thinking of the man I shouldn’t be.
Unknown number.
At first, I ignore it. But something prickles beneath my skin and I look.
You’re not just a pawn, Aoife. You’re the move they’re betting everything on.
My chest tightens.What does that mean?
Another vibration.
Ask why the date’s being moved. Ask who benefits when the heir is born.
The air thickens.My throat locks. Whoever this is, they know too much.
The messages keep coming.
Why was your fiancé really chosen?
Why now?
Power doesn’t marry power unless one is desperate.
I swallow hard, glancing over my shoulder.
My thumbs hover over the screen.
Aoife
Who are you?
Typing bubble appears. Then disappears, then appears.
A mirror in a hall of masks. Trust no one. Not even your own blood.
The message glowsfor a second before the screen goes black. The number vanishes. No trace. No history.
Someone out there knows I’m trapped and they want me awake for the kill.
But who? And why?
Morning breaks bright,but the calm feels false.
My head still rings from the night’s messages.
Who sent them? Why me?
The ring on my finger bites into my skin. Rory Brennan. Even his name feels wrong.
The more I think about him, the less sense the alliance makes.
