LOGINJessa’s eyes widened the instant she saw me.Not dramatically. Not in shock. But in that small, careful way someone looks when they’re trying to piece together what they’re seeing without making you flinch.Her gaze swept over me - my flushed cheeks, the sheen of sweat along my hairline, the way one of my hands still clutched the doorframe as if I needed it to stay upright.She noticed everything.“Thea…” she whispered, brow knitting with concern. “You’re shaking.”I forced a laugh - too thin, too breathless. “I’m fine.” The lie cracked halfway through the word.Jessa stepped closer, hesitant but gentle. “You look pale. Or - maybe not pale. More like you’re overheated. Did you run here?” Her eyes dropped to my bare feet on the floor. “…You weren’t running.”My stomach tightened. Another soft pulse of heat flickered low in my belly, making my knees tremble so faintly I prayed she didn’t see.But she did.Her eyes snapped back up.“Thea - sit down.” Her voice softened even f
I woke with a sharp intake of breath, the sound catching in my throat like a swallowed cry.The room was dim - just a faint wash of early dawn creeping across the floorboards - but my body felt like it was still standing on that impossible lake.Heat simmered low and deep, spreading in slow, pulsing waves that dragged a quiet, desperate sound from my chest. My thighs tightened together instinctively, fighting the trembling that ran through them.The sheets were twisted around my hips, clinging to my damp skin. I couldn't tell if I had kicked them off… or writhed in them.My hand move down to my oussy, slick and wet. I wasn’t sure if I was moving my fingers to rubmy clit or if some higher being was moving it for me.A soft moan slipped out before I could stop it.Not pain. Not fear. Need.My breath came in short, shuddering bursts, my chest rising and falling too fast. Every inhale felt like heat. Every exhale felt like surrender.I pressed the back of my wrist to my mouth, trying t
I drifted into sleep slowly, Orion’s face lingering behind my eyes. Her voice. Her warmth. The memory of her hand brushing my cheek.The weight of the collar faded. The room dissolved. And the dream rose up around me like mist.When I opened my eyes, I stood on water.A vast lake stretched out beneath me, smooth as glass, reflecting the sky with perfect clarity. The sunset above burned with colours too vivid to be real - brilliant oranges, deep pinks, molten gold bleeding into violet.The surface of the lake glowed with those same colours, as if the sky and water were mirrors whispering to one another.Every step I took sent gentle ripples blooming out around my feet, shimmering with colour and soft light.But the water held me.As if it knew me. Recognised me. Accepted me.The air was warm. Soft. Still.And then I saw her.At the far end of the lake, light gathered - slow at first, then brightening, swirling into shape.A tall, radiant woman.Her form was unmistakably fe
My room felt colder after dinner.The hall’s buzz of voices, the clatter of bowls, even the guard’s mockery - all of it faded behind the closed door. And in the quiet, everything I’d been holding back settled in my chest like a weight.I sat on the edge of my bed, untying my shoes slowly, letting them fall softly onto the floorboards. My legs stretched out in front of me, pale in the dim lamplight, marked with the last fading shadows of bruises.The collar sat cool against my skin, a constant, steady pressure.I let my fingers trace along the fabric of my dress as my breath came out in a slow shiver.Orion… where are you now?I imagined her voice rising above the battle line, calm and commanding. I imagined her cloak billowing behind her as she stood with the troops. I imagined the fire in her eyes - the determination she carried like armour.And the ache of missing her hit with a force I wasn’t prepared for.Not romantic. Not even fully personal. Just the ache of losing someon
It started on the fifth morning.Nothing dramatic. No horns. No official message. Just a change in the way the hallways sounded - quieter in some places, noisier in others, like the house itself was shifting its weight.By the time Jessa and I reached the laundry room, the air felt different. Charged. Like everyone was waiting for something without knowing what.I had barely rolled up my sleeves when a pair of older slaves hurried in with a load of linens. Their whispers were louder than usual - sharp, fast, too urgent to stay contained.Jessa stiffened beside me.“What is it?” she asked, drying her hands on her skirt.The older woman glanced around before answering.“Word from the northern storehouse,” she said in a hushed voice. “One of the collection teams came back early.”I froze. “Early? Why?”She hesitated. And in that hesitation, fear slithered into the room like a cold draft.“They said the fighting’s been… harder than expected.”My stomach tightened.Jessa swallowe
By the time three days had passed, the world outside the house felt as distant as the trees beyond the walls. No horns. No troops. No updates. Only the quiet hum of lockdown routines settling into place.And in that quiet, the laundry room became… familiar.The warm water. The scent of soap. The steady rhythm of scrubbing and rinsing. The soft drip of wet cloth hanging overhead.It was tiring work, but simple. Predictable. And after everything that had happened, predictable felt like a kindness I didn’t know how much I needed.Jessa worked beside me each day, sleeves rolled up, hair tied back with her fraying ribbon, humming quietly to herself as she scrubbed. She talked sometimes, not enough to overwhelm me, just enough to keep the air from falling heavy.By the fourth afternoon, something in me finally loosened.The tension behind my ribs. The constant watchfulness. The sense that danger sat just beyond every corner.It didn’t vanish — it simply softened enough that I could bre







