LOGINIt's evening. The lamps have been lit. The long room smells of lavender and boiled linen and something warm baking in the kitchens below. Tobin sits at the corner table, nose deep in a thick book, his lips moving as he reads. The physician is at his desk, writing with a scratch of quill.Elysia is at the long table with her sleeves pushed up and her braid slipping loose.She's holding her left hand in her right.I'm across the room before I decide to move."What happened?"She looks up. "Nothing.""You're bleeding.""I'm not bleeding. It's a cut."I look down. A thin line runs across the heel of her hand, an inch long and bright red, welling slowly. A pair of herb shears lies on the table beside a pile of cut stems. A drop of blood has landed on a leaf of mint.I smell it. Iron. Warmth. Her blood is the only scent I've ever picked up from her, and it hits my wolf like a slap.*Hurt*, he growls.*It's a scratch.Hurt. Fix it.*"Cain
*Day 12 of 100*RhaegarMy daughter is waiting in my private sitting room.I smell her before I open the door. Jasmine, rose oil, and under them a sharp, cold note I've known since she was small, the smell of Sabrina holding in a scream. She's standing at the window with her back to me and her arms crossed. The pale grey silk has been swapped for a gown of deep wine, and her hair is down."Close the door," she says.I close it."You humiliated me.""Good evening, Sabrina.""In front of her." She turns. Her cheeks are blotched with color, and her eyes are bright and hard. "In front of the maids, in front of the servants. You looked at me like I was a child who'd stolen a sweet.""You were threatening a woman under my protection.""I was *speaking* to her.""With your claws out."Her mouth snaps shut.I walk to the sideboard and pour two glasses of wine. I hold one out. She doesn't take it. After a moment, I set it on the table besid
The words crack through the corridor like a whip.I don't need to turn. The air has changed. A heavy pressure rolls down the hall, weighty and ancient, pressing against my shoulders like a hand. The window rattles harder in its frame. A candle flame bends flat.Rhaegar strides around the corner.He's alone. His coat hangs open and his hair is disordered, as if he's been running. His eyes sweep the corridor, me, Sabrina, the narrow space between us, and his nostrils flare. I watch him breathe in. I watch his gaze sharpen to a razor.He's read the whole room by scent. Every word we didn't say."Sabrina."She straightens at once. The cold fury drains from her face so fast it's almost frightening, replaced by a bright, aggrieved calm. Her nails are normal again. Her smile is back in place."Father! I'm so glad you're here. Your *guest* has been terribly rude.""Has she?""She accused me of horrible things. She said I was involved in her banishment. I
*Day 11 of 100* Elysia I make it down the infirmary stairs before someone says my name. "Elysia." It's soft and smooth, and it comes from the shadows at the end of the east corridor. I know the voice before I turn. My wolf knows it too. Her ears flatten, and a faint chill runs down my spine. Sabrina is standing beside a tall window with her hands folded in front of her. She's changed out of the midnight gown into pale grey silk, her hair pinned up with a silver comb. The afternoon light falls across her face and turns her eyes to ice. Two maids hover nearby with a stack of folded linen. A footman waits by the stairs. "Leave us," Sabrina says. They go. They don't look at me. The footman's boots echo down the stairwell, and then there's only the faint rattle of the window in its frame and the thump of my own heart. I should have taken the other stairs. "Princess." "Walk with m
It's the longest walk of my life. Heads turn as I pass. Whispers rise and fall like waves. I feel every eye on my hips and my stomach and the stained hem of my dress. A maid titters. Someone says "*scentless*" in a low, delighted voice.I keep walking.I stop at the foot of the steps and bow."Princess.""This is Elysia Belrose," Rhaegar says. His tone is even, formal, no warmer than a letter. "She's assisting Bloodmoon's physician. I'm reviewing the circumstances of her banishment from Silvercrest.""Banishment," Sabrina repeats."Yes.""From Silvercrest.""Yes."She tilts her head. She looks me over, slowly, from my braid to my boots, and something flickers behind her eyes, quick as a fish in dark water. There's recognition in it. Of course there is. And then, smoothly, so fast I almost miss it, there's *surprise*."Oh," she says, with a small, perfect gasp. "*You*.""You know each other?" Rhaegar asks."I know *of* her." Sabrina's v
*Day 10 of 100*ElysiaThe castle wakes up wrong.I know it before I'm out of bed. The corridor outside my room is already loud, boots on stone, doors banging, someone shouting for more candles at an hour when no one should need candles. A maid hurries past my door carrying an armful of white linen. Another follows with a silver tray and a look of grim panic.I pull on my red dress and splash water on my face. By the time I reach the infirmary, I've dodged three footmen, one terrified page, and a woman with a vase of hothouse lilies who told me to "mind the floor, it's just been done.""What's happening?" I ask the physician.He's sitting at his desk with a cup of tea, entirely unbothered. "The princess is coming home.""Today?""This morning. Early carriage." He sips. "Every servant in the castle has been up since four.""For one person?""For *that* person."I look at him. He raises his eyebrows over the rim of the cup, a small, dry, mea
I should have gone straight back to work.I should have kept my head down, finished my shift, and gone to bed.But one of the other servants—a younger girl named Tessa—stopped me as I was carrying a tray of empty glasses.“Did you see that?” she whispered, her eyes wide. “The Alpha King actually st
TWO YEARS LATERElysia’s POVIt had been two years since my mother died. Two years since that night in the forest. Two years since a stranger fucked me against a tree and told me I was the biggest mistake of his life.I thought about him sometimes. Late at night when I couldn’t sleep. I’d replay it
Elysia’s POVHe studied me for a moment, his gaze dragging over my face like he was memorizing it. Then he leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear.“I can make you feel good,” he murmured, voice rough, “I can help you forget everything else.”My heart stuttered.His thumb traced the corner of m
Elysia’s POVI didn’t cry at my mother’s funeral.Not because I didn’t want to. I’d cried so much in the three days before that my eyes felt like they’d been scraped raw. But standing there, watching them lower her body into the ground wrapped in white cloth like she was something fragile and preci







