Velka's fingers traced slow circles on the stone windowsill, eyes fixed on the horizon, watching as dawn painted the sky in streaks of pale lavender and gold. Sleep had abandoned her entirely after that dream no, memory whatever it was. She sighed, annoyed, and pressed her forehead lightly against the cool glass, hoping it might soothe her fevered thoughts.
It didn't.
Nothing about last night made sense. Not the secret chamber, not the petrified heart suddenly pulsing with impossible life, and certainly not the strange warmth Elyzara had kindled beneath her skin. Velka was accustomed to cold logic, disciplined emotion, and careful control. Yet Elyzara was like a flame too bright, too unpredictable, threatening to burn away every defense she had meticulously built.
"Foolish," she muttered, stepping back from the window.
