Stirred awake, Evangeline sat up on the softest bed she had ever known. For a long moment, she only stared, her green eyes looking almost translucent under the light that shone over her.
Morning spilled in through a window that stretched all the way to the ceiling, pale light washing over the room. Beyond the glass, trees swayed gently, their leaves a vivid green. A round blue bird perched on a branch and sang, its clear notes threading through the stillness as if calling her into the day.
By the time the weight of consciousness settled in, by the time she remembered the auction, the contract, and the fact that Hades had bought her, the bird had already flown away.
Her hand rose instinctively to her neck.
Her fingers brushed the skin there, tracing the raised warmth of the mark blooming beneath her collarbone, the faint sting still lingering like a half-healed burn.
"…It wasn't a dream," she whispered.
Now she had no family. No home.
