AISLYNMorning arrives, but the light that slips into my room doesn’t feel like sunlight.

It feels like a warning.

Thin. Pale. Watching.

My eyes open instantly, no grogginess, no sluggishness. Sleep never came, not truly. I drifted in and out, hovering in that place between dreaming and waking where shadows breathe and magic hums under my skin.

The key is warm against my chest, pulsing faintly.

Just like last night.

Just like the moment the witch touched me.

I lie still for a moment, staring ...