CHAPTER FIFTEEN

INARA’S POV

The silence Hati left behind was far heavier than his presence.

After his blunt dismissal, I had returned to the East Wing without another word, guided back through the dark basalt corridors by the quiet guard. The luxury of the Solar Chambers the roaring hearth fire, the plush furs underfoot, the steaming copper tub felt completely surreal.

I sat on the edge of the massive crimson draped bed, staring into the flames.

I couldn't shake the memory of those final moments in his study. The sudden, violent shift in his posture. The way the air had grown suffocatingly hot, thick with a dark, crushing weight that felt almost physical. But most of all, it was the way he had looked at me. It wasn't the gaze of a warlord inspecting a political tribute, nor was it the predatory leer of a man looking at a trophy.

He had looked at me as though he were searching for something hidden deep beneath my skin.

"It makes no sense," I whispered to the empty room.

I reached up, pulling the silver pins from my hair one by one, letting the dark locks tumble over my shoulders.

Exhaustion from the long, freezing trek through the mountain passes finally caught up to me, pulling my limbs down like heavy lead. I shed my woolen skirts, pulled on a simple ivory nightgown, and slid beneath the heavy velvet covers.

The furs were soft, smelling faintly of lavender. For the first time in weeks, I was warm.

And then, I dreamed.

I found myself standing in the center of an endless, frozen forest. The sky above was not black, but a deep, luminous indigo, lit by an enormous full moon that hovered low over the snow covered pines. There was no wind. No sound of rustling leaves. No crunching of snow beneath my feet.

Standing on a low, frosted branch directly in front of me was a bird.

It was a snowy owl of staggering size, its plumage so blindingly white it seemed to radiate its own inner moonlight. Its large, round eyes were not the amber of a wolf, nor the pale grey of my own, but a deep, brilliant violet like two crushed amethysts glowing in the dark.

It didn't fly. It didn't hoot. It simply sat on the branch, tilting its massive head, staring straight into my soul it made my breath catch in my chest.

Inara.

The voice didn't come from the air. It didn't echo through the frozen trees. It echoed directly inside the cavern of my own mind smooth, clear, and ringing like a silver bell struck beneath water.

My heart slammed against my ribs. I scrambled backward in the snow, my hands coming up to cover my ears. "Who's there?"

Inara.

"Stop," I gasped, looking frantically around the empty white woods. "Where are you? Who is speaking?"

The giant snowy owl spread its massive, feathered wings, taking off from the branch without making a single sound. It glided through the indigo air, circling once above my head before diving straight down toward my chest.

I shrieked, throwing my arms over my face to brace for the impact

I bolted upright in bed.

Cold sweat drenched my ivory nightgown, sticking the fabric to my spine. I was gasping for air, my chest heaving rapidly as my eyes darted frantically around the darkened bedchamber. The hearth fire had burned down to glowing red coals, casting long, twisting shadows across the heavy crimson curtains of the bed.

It had just been a dream. A nightmare brought on by the stress of the journey, the cold air, and the overwhelming atmosphere of the Citadel.

I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, forcing my rapid breathing to slow down. "It was just a dream. Just a dream."

It’s not a dream, little human.

The voice struck again sharp, clear, and unmistakable. It resonated directly inside my skull, vibrating against the back of my thoughts with an eerie, intimate weight.

I froze entirely, my hands dropping from my face. My skin went deathly cold, every hair on my arms standing straight up.

"No," I whispered aloud, my voice trembling for the first time since I had left the southern lands. I gripped the edges of the silk sheets until my knuckles turned white.

"No, I am tired.

I must be losing my mind."

You are not losing your mind, the voice replied, its tone laced with a cool, calm amusement that felt utterly real.

Though your panic is quite loud. Do lower your thoughts a bit; it gives me a headache.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice rising in sharp, terrified pitch as I stared around the empty, shadowy room. "Show yourself! Where are you hiding?"

I am not hiding in the wardrobe, Inara, the voice said, letting out a soft, melodic sigh that echoed internally behind my eyes.

I am right here. Where I have always been.

"Where?" I rasped, tears of pure, overwhelming shock pricking at the corners of my eyes.

Inside.

The presence inside my mind shifted, settling warm and heavy against my consciousness, like a creature uncurling itself after a decades long sleep. I could feel the strange, soft beat of wings somewhere deep within my own chest a rhythm that did not match the steady pounding of my own human heart.

You may call me Sova, the voice murmured softly, the tone smoothing over my frayed edges like cool velvet.

And it is about time you woke up.