••{RHIANNON'S POV}••
Things haven't been the same since the massacre six days ago.
I tell myself that the danger is over. Every traitor is dead. Their bodies were burned. Their names erased. Darkholme is secure again.
But my mind won't listen.
Every night I go to sleep, I have the same nightmare.
I'm dragged from my bed in the dark. Hands with sharp nails clamp over my mouth. Shadows pull me through corridors that never end. I scream but I can't hear my own voice. I reach for help that never comes. And every single time I wake up, frightened and gasping for air, all I see is my empty chamber.
I stopped trying to sleep alone after the fourth night.
Instead, I wander the halls like a ghost, barefoot on cold stone, following the same path every time. I don't even think about where I'm going anymore. My body just knows.
Azrael's chambers.
At first, I told myself I was only checking on him. Making sure he was still breathing. Still here. Still alive.
