(Catherine POV)
Sleep had become my enemy. I lay in silk sheets that felt like restraints, staring at ceiling shadows that danced with accusations I couldn't name. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard Lord MacAllister's voice drifting up from the study below—cold, precise, describing consequences for supernatural creatures who couldn't maintain their illusions.
Supernatural creatures. The words had burned themselves into my memory like brands.
I'd pressed my ear to the floor until the Persian rug left patterns on my cheek, straining to catch every word of what sounded like a trial.
The sound of that punishment still echoed in my bones.
At half past midnight, I gave up any pretense of sleep. The castle corridors called to me with their promise of answers I'd been too cowardly to seek.
