Nikolai

The morning air was cold against my skin, sharp and clean, the kind of cold that woke you up whether you wanted it or not. I'd been running for an hour already, circling the perimeter of the citadel, my breath fogging in front of me, my muscles burning in a way that felt almost good. The beast was quiet this morning—not silent, never silent, but subdued, as if it too was still recovering from the night before.

I pushed harder. Faster. The walls blurred past, the guards at their ...