TURTELA The lavender perfume lingered in the halls as I made my way to my room, my bare feet silent on marble floors. Tonight, something felt wrong. The air was too still, the moon too bright, silver light accusingly streaming through each of the high arched windows. My wolf stirred inside me, tense, alert. "Turtela." I turned around. Rina, one of the younger maids, stood with a folded bunch of silks clutched in her hands—my favorite nightgown amongst them. Her smile was too wide, her eyes too wide. Something inside me tightened. "Thanks," I said, taking the silks from her. Her fingers brushed against mine. Cold. Too cold. I did not let my unease show. "You okay, Rina?" She blinked. Too late. "Of course, my lady. I just. I did not sleep well." "Try tea," I breathed. "Chamomile works wonders." I went into my quarters and closed the door softly. But I did not go in any farther. I listened. Waited. I felt her outside. Breathing. Not leaving. I spun, yanked open the door. She wa
Last Updated : 2025-05-01 Read more