TRAPPED IN THE DARK CASTLE
For a second, I saw her—not as prey, not as an enemy, not as someone Bernatta wanted dead, but as the woman who had cried into my chest, who had argued with me until sunrise, who had become something I never intended to care for.
But the spell crushed the memory instantly, smothering the spark before it could spread.
My body grabbed the front of Amy’s shirt and slammed her back against a pillar. The dagger fell from her hand, clattering across the courtyard. She gasped from the impact, her hands gripping my wrist desperately as my fingers tightened around her throat.
The cold inside me grew sharper.
Bernatta whispered again. Finish her.
Amy’s tears spilled—not from fear, but from heartbreak.