🎀CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY🎀 The morning light struggled to pierce through the heavy curtains, leaving the room trapped in a dim, grey haze. Zayla groaned, her eyelids feeling like lead as she kept them shut. Her head was banging with a rhythmic, pulsing pain, each throb making her wince. She felt like her skull had been cracked open and put back together wrong. She shifted under the covers, turning to the other side to find a more comfortable position. As she settled into the pillows, she took a deep breath. She paused, her nose wrinkling slightly as she sniffed the air. Wait. This room didn't scent like hers. Instead of the familiar smell of her own linens, the air was thick with a sharp, masculine fragrance, the scent of expensive cedarwood and a faint, lingering trace of something dark and cold. Zayla scrambled as she sat up, as if the silk sheets were made of fire, her eyes darting around the dim space. A cold realization hit her like a bucket of ice water,this
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