RhiannonWaking up feels like emerging from a deep ocean, the pressure in my head so intense it’s a wonder I can think at all. My head throbs with a pain that makes me wince, and for a moment, I can’t remember why. I try to sit up, but the room spins, a carousel I never bought a ticket for. Blinking, trying to force my vision to clear, I notice a figure in the room with me, still and silent. My vision blurs at the edges, a disorienting fog that takes a few heartbeats to clear.When it does, the figure beside me comes into sharp focus. Gavriel. As the world finally snaps back into focus, and memories flood back—his injury, the healing, my collapse. My head spins, not just from the pain but from the whirlwind of emotions that accompany the recollection.“How long have I been out?” My voice sounds weak, even to my own ears.“A few hours,” Gavriel answers, his voice a low rumble, filled with an undercurrent of something I can’t quite decipher.I pause, considering his presence here, by

RhiannonPacing back and forth in my bedroom, a sense of restlessness envelops me, as if my skin doesn’t quite fit right. It’s hot, too hot, and beads of sweat gather at my brow, an uncomfortable sheen that I can’t seem to shake off. This isn’t just the heat of the room; it’s something else, something deeper, stirring within me.I stop, trying to catch my breath, trying to understand what’s happening. I don’t feel sick, not in the way one does with a cold or fever. No, this is different. It’s like there’s a fire inside me, burning, seeking an outlet, but I have no idea how to quench it. I’ve never felt this way before—so alien, so not like myself.I press a hand to my forehead, half expecting to find a fever, but there’s nothing. Just the same, relentless heat, the same unexplained turmoil.“What’s happening to me?” I mutter to the empty room, half expecting an answer from the shadows that stretch across the floor. But, of course, there’s none. The room remains silent, save for the so

Rhiannon Sitting across from Ivar, Gavriel, and Soren, I’m completely nervous and out of my depth. We’re about to discuss something that could change the course of our lives forever. “We need to talk to my parents,” I start, diving straight into the heart of the matter. “And I mean really talk. Not through messages or mediators, but face-to-face, on neutral ground.” Ivar leans forward, his usual carefree demeanour taking a backseat to the seriousness of our discussion. “And what’s to stop them from launching an attack when we meet? Neutral ground or not.” Gavriel, silent up to this point, adds, “They’re not known for playing fair. We can’t afford to underestimate them. Security is a concern. We don’t know if your parents will come alone or bring an entourage. We have to be prepared for anything.” Soren, who’s been quietly listening, finally speaks up. “And there’s the matter of trust. We’re asking them to meet under a flag of truce. After everything, that’s asking a lot.” I can’

RhiannonThe cold shock of being torn from Soren’s embrace cuts through me, my screams shattering the stillness as I reach out for him, for any of them, only to find my hands grasping at empty air. The ground rushes up to meet me, and as I scramble to my feet, my eyes lock onto my parents, standing a few feet away, their expressions a mix of concern and something darker.“What have you done?!” I shout at my parents, staring into their faces, searching for some hint of remorse, of understanding. “Why would you do this?”My father, Cassian, stands firm, his expression a mask of regret and resolve. “We did what we had to, Rhiannon. They took you from us and we had no idea if this was a trap or not. We’re just taking you back.”“Taking me back?” I echo, incredulity sharpening my voice to a cutting edge. “You call this a rescue? I chose to be with them!”My mother reaches out, her touch meant to soothe, but it only fans the flames of my anger. “Darling, please, try to understand. We’re ju

RhiannonAs I feel the fabric of the blindfold tighten gently around my eyes, Ivar’s warm breath tickles my ear. “Trust me, Rhi. You’re going to love this,” he whispers, his voice a soothing blend of mystery and reassurance.“Where are you taking me?” I ask, half-excited, half-anxious as he guides me by the hand. Each step crunches softly underfoot, the unmistakable scent of the forest growing stronger with every breath. My heart races, not just from the blindfold and the unknown, but from the anticipation of whatever Ivar has planned.“Just a little further,” he teases, his usual light-hearted chuckle making it harder to fret about where we’re going. “You don’t always need to see the path to enjoy where it leads.”Despite my nervousness, I smile, squeezing his hand. “If this is another one of your cooking experiments, I swear…”He laughs, stopping us both. “No cooking this time. I promise.” He leans in, kissing the side of my head gently. “Okay, ready?”The anticipation is a knot in