Priscilla’s POV

The haze that hung over my mind subsided. That awful ache in my head a memory. I felt a cold breeze against my shoulders, but a quilt enveloped me, keeping the chill away for the most part.

I felt disoriented. Why did my mouth taste like blood?

“I need a list of everyone that’s had access to her room the past week. Servants. Delivery people. Purebloods. I don’t care. Everyone,” that was Wyatt’s voice. What was he doing in my room?

My eyes ...