Rosalie’s POV The first night in the Crimson Wing was an exercise in pure survival. While Vanessa slept soundly, her rhythmic breathing filling our shared room, I lay awake on the edge of my mattress, staring at the canopy overhead. Every creak of the old stone walls, every heavy step of the armored guards patrolling the corridor outside our door, made my inner wolf bristle. When the morning bell finally tolled, echoed by the harsh clanking of iron gates being thrown open, the East Wing erupted into a flurry of frantic activity. "Get up, garbage," Vanessa snapped, throwing a velvet pillow directly at my head as she stepped out of bed. She was already dressed in a vibrant, form-fitting gold gown, her hair pinned up in intricate, royal braids. "The King's steward announced an assembly in the lower hall. If you make me late because you're wallowing in bed, I'll ensure the guards drag you down by your hair." I let the pillow hit the mattress, keeping my face blank as I slid out fr
Last Updated : 2026-06-26 Read more