taytay209

I unfolded the fragile page, Kael leaning close as the lantern light caught the writing. My mother’s hand—sharp, deliberate strokes—spread across the paper. I swallowed hard and began to read aloud:

Kael paced the length of the dorm, muttering to himself. “No, no, no, this is bad—this is worse than bad. Purple blood? Orange Luminor? This isn’t random, Ryder. This is connected.”

I never like the face I meet

when morning drags me from my sheets.

The mirror shows a version

that I swear I never chose—

tired eyes, heavy lines,

a stranger wearing all my clothes.

But Seraphina’s golden eyes never left me. 

I collapsed face-first onto my bunk, groaning into the thin pillow. “Well,” I mumbled, my voice muffled by the fabric, “that went great.”