Elara's pov

I woke to the soft crackle of fire.

The warmth danced across my skin, a stark contrast to the stone-cold fear that still bubbled in my belly.

For a second, I forgot where I was. The sheets beneath me were too fine. The air too warm. No smell. No creaking of the servant’s wing. The scent of smoke and iron and—

My heart stopped.

His scent.

I bolted upright, gasping. The room spun wildly as pain coursed through my side, my thigh screaming in protest.

I ...