I woke long before dawn, ripped out of sleep by something I could not name. Panic. Cold. A heartbeat that was not entirely mine. My chest rose in quick, shallow gasps as I stared into the dark ceiling above me, feeling that strange pull reverberating through my bones.
The mark on my palm was warm again.
Not burning like yesterday. Not pulsing violently like when Calix was near. Warm. Steady. Beating in a quiet rhythm.
I pressed my palm to my chest and held it there, feeling the soft thrum spread across my ribs. My heartbeat answered it. Or maybe the mark answered me. I could not tell the difference anymore.
I rolled out of bed with my hair sticking out in twelve directions and absolutely zero emotional stability. Dawn had not even bothered to show up yet. The sky outside my window was
