Aslaan's POV

The dawn came grey and cold, bleeding light through the fortress walls.

I hadn’t slept. The night had been too heavy, too restless. Whispers had haunted the corridors of fever, of death, of blame. But what gnawed deepest was the sight of her.

Petal.

Standing by the well under the moonlight.

Eyes wide, lips trembling, as if she’d seen a ghost.

I’d watched from the balcony, unseen. She had looked terrified, not guilty. And that terrified me more than anything.

Because ...