Blood bound: The legacy of the blood king
Her nerves, already frayed by the trauma of the day, screamed a silent warning.
Riana's heart raced as a feather-light touch grazed her cheek, so delicate it could have been a stray strand of her own hair. But Riana knew it wasn’t. Ice-cold fingers of fear radiated from where that contact had been, seeping into her skin like an invasive chill. Her eyes snapped open, and the room, painted in the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the lace-curtained window, remained empty. There was no discernible presence, no shadow that threatened, yet the coldness lingered, a palpable weight pressing against her.
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