Something to hold on to.

Winter’s POV

The room is quiet again.

Too quiet.

The kind of quiet that feels like it is pretending nothing just happened.

I stay exactly where I am for a few seconds after it disappears, my body still locked in the same position, my fingers gripping the sheets so tightly that they ache. My chest rises and falls unevenly, and it takes a moment before I can even convince myself to breathe properly again.

It is gone.

I know it is.

I felt the moment it vanished, like pressure lifting from the room.

But that does not make it better.

Because it was here.

Right behind me.

Close enough that if I had turned at the wrong time, if Keon had not been there, if I had been alone for even a second longer…

My stomach twists.

I push the thought away before it can fully form.

Keon moves closer, and I feel it before I even look at him. The shift in the air, the steadiness in his presence, the way the bond settles slightly now that he is right in front of me.

“You’re fine,” he says.

His voice is calm, but I can feel what sits under it.

Not calm.

Not really.

Controlled.

I swallow.

“I… it was right behind me.”

“I know.”

Of course he knows.

He saw it.

He felt it.

He handled it like it was something he had already decided how to deal with the moment it appeared.

“What was that?” I ask.

The question feels smaller than what just happened, but it is the only one I can form.

He looks at me for a second before answering.

“That was not random.”

The words settle in my chest in a way that makes it hard to breathe again.

Not random.

So it came here for a reason.

My mind moves too fast.

Too many possibilities.

Too many things I do not understand.

“It came for you.”

That part lands differently.

He says it like a fact.

Not a guess.

Not a theory.

And something about that makes the room feel smaller.

I sit there for a moment, trying to process it, trying to match what I felt with what he is saying.

Something invisible.

Something controlled.

Something that knew how to get into his palace.

And it came for me.

“Why?” I ask quietly.

It is not even directed properly.

It just comes out.

Keon does not answer immediately.

And that scares me more than if he had.

Because it means he is thinking.

Or worse.

He already knows and is deciding how much to say.

“We will figure that out,” he says finally.

It is not an answer.

But it is something.

I nod slightly, even though my thoughts are still running in circles.

The adrenaline is starting to wear off now, leaving something heavier behind.

Awareness.

Fear, but not sharp anymore.

Just sitting there.

Waiting.

My body feels different too.

Tired.

Like everything that happened over the last few days is finally catching up to me all at once.

Keon notices.

Of course he does.

“Lie down,” he says.

“I’m not—”

“Winter.”

The way he says my name stops me.

Not harsh.

Not loud.

Just firm enough that I do not argue again.

I shift slowly, easing back onto the bed, my muscles still tense even as I try to relax them. The sheets feel colder now, or maybe I am just more aware of everything.

Keon stays where he is.

Standing.

Watching.

Not pacing.

Not moving.

Just… there.

Like he is making sure nothing else dares to exist in the same space as me again.

I close my eyes for a second.

Just a second.

But the exhaustion pulls harder than I expect.

And before I can fully decide if I want to sleep or not, everything fades.

When I wake up, the room feels normal again.

Light filters softly through the window, and for a second I just lie there, staring at the ceiling, trying to remember what felt wrong.

Then it hits me all at once.

The scream.

The presence.

Keon.

My body tenses immediately, and I push myself up, scanning the room before I can stop myself.

Empty.

Nothing out of place.

Nothing hiding.

Still.

Safe.

I let out a slow breath.

But the feeling does not leave completely.

It stays under my skin.

Quiet.

Persistent.

Like a reminder.

I get up slowly, moving through the room with more awareness than before, my eyes checking things I would not have noticed yesterday.

The door.

The window.

The corners.

Everything.

By the time I leave the room, the palace is already active.

Servants move through the halls, guards stand at their posts, and everything looks exactly the way it should.

But I know better now.

I find my way to the dining hall without thinking too much about it.

Routine.

Normalcy.

Something to hold on to.

When I step inside, a few heads turn briefly before looking away again. The atmosphere is quieter than usual, but not tense enough to draw attention.

I spot Keon immediately.

Of course I do.

He stands near the far side of the room, speaking to one of the guards. His posture is straight, his expression composed, like nothing at all is out of place.

But I feel it.

Through the bond.

It is faint now.

Controlled again.

But it is there.

Sharp.

Focused.

He has not relaxed.

Not even a little.

Before I can decide whether to go to him or not, another voice cuts in.

“Keon.”

Rowan.

I turn slightly at the sound.

He stands near the entrance, his expression serious in a way that immediately shifts the air around him.

Not panic.

But not casual either.

Keon looks at him.

“What is it?”

Rowan steps closer, lowering his voice slightly, but not enough that I cannot hear the edge in it.

“There’s something you need to see.”

Keon’s expression does not change much.

But I feel the shift instantly.

Attention.

Sharp.

Immediate.

“What kind of something?” he asks.

Rowan glances briefly around the room, then back at him.

“Not here.”

That is enough.

Whatever it is, it is not small.

Keon straightens slightly.

“I’ll be there in a moment.”

Rowan nods once.

But before he turns away, his gaze flicks briefly past Keon.

To me.

It lingers for just a second too long.

Then he leaves.

And just like that, the evening fractures again.

Because I know that look.

Something is wrong.

And whatever it is…

It is connected.