Abducted

The rain had stopped by dawn, but the castle still smelled of fear. It hung in the air like smoke, thick and suffocating.

Liora sat on the edge of the bed, hands clutching her cloak. Her fingers were pale, trembling. Maris’s words still echoed in her mind — the bond isn’t broken. Those words had given her a small thread of hope. Now, that thread is gone.

Because Maris was dead.

The maid who had been tending to her whispered the news as she folded the sheets. Her voice ...