KIRA

Pain dragged me back to consciousness.

Everything hurt. My wrists, my ankles, my throat where silver had burned. But it was different now, muted by something warm flowing through my veins. Healing magic.

I forced my eyes open, expecting the cracked ceiling of my closet room. Or the dungeon. Or nothing at all.

Instead, I saw black silk stretched above me.

My breath caught as I turned my head slowly. I was lying in a massive bed with carved wooden posts and fur throws. A fireplace crackled ...