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The king’s magic lesson came to mind.

“See it like a hand, and it’ll move like a hand. Your magic is an extension of your body.”

Theoretically, I could see my magic as engulfing me, turning me to shadows, and it would happen. It had worked when I did so with my hand in the forest, right?

Swallowing an assload of stress and fear, I looked down at my bare arms, and imagined them becoming shadow. It took a lot of focus, but the shadow slowly engulfed my skin, taking over completely.

I focused more, my forehead knitting as I urged the shadows to continue moving down more of my body, to spread and cover me.

Finally, they did, and I focused on seeing them turn to mist.

The moment I saw it in my mind, Namir’s body fellthroughmy shadows. He kept snoring—didn’t even notice the change.

But I rolled off the bed, dropping the magic as soon as I was free of the king’s massive form.

My breathing was quick, my chest rising and falling rapidly as my body relaxed.

I had done it.

I had formed my magic exactly how I wanted to—and used it to break free.

A soft, breathless laugh escaped me, but Namir continued right on snoring.

I wasn’t weak.

I wasn’t trapped.

I was powerful, and free.

…so long as my monster didn’t rip control away from me again soon.

My stomach rumbled, but I had no desire to wake Namir. He was a grouch in the mornings, and then he’d see me naked again, which would cause all sorts of awkwardness and lust on my part. And I’d probably see him naked too, which would only encourage the annoying lust that had begun developing the night before.

So I slipped into the closet silently. Grimacing at the white and silver fabric, I pulled the dirty underclothing and dress over my skin, setting it properly into place. Halla would be dropping off my new clothes a bit later, so I would put them on when they got there—after I showered again, of course. I wouldn’t want to ruin my new clothes.

I slipped out of my room and headed down the hallway to find food, unraveling my braid as I went. My hair was still slightly damp, and so incredibly soft that I found myself petting it a bit. I knew I was strange, but I couldn’t stop myself—it had never felt so smooth before.

I passed a few people I didn’t recognize as I headed down the stairs. Most of them gawked at me, so I ignored them.

Stress clenched my stomach a bit, but I forced myself to remain standing straight. I was a survivor; their judgmental stares weren’t going to change that.

I found the castle’s kitchen and dining room off to the side of the staircase, through another door that I hadn’t noticed the first time I was in the castle. Everything was built out of the same shadowy stone, which made it difficult to tell things apart sometimes.

There were a handful of tables and chairs spread out in the part of the wide room nearest to me, and a few male and female fae cooking up a storm in a huge kitchen behind them. I stopped just inside the doorway, and watched in fascination.

I didn’t know how to cook—I might like to learn that. To do so, I’d need a kitchen and a teacher, though. Maybe one of the fae in there would teach me.

“Does Namir know you’re down here?” Jesh’s voice rumbled behind me.

I spun around swiftly, smacking him in the chest with my hair, much to his apparent amusement.

“Easy.” He held up a hand. “I mean no harm.”

“Namir’s sleeping. He’s a miserable bastard in the mornings.” My voice was clipped; Jesh and I were not friends. He had broken my trust moments after we met.

Jesh lifted an eyebrow. “And you think leaving your room without him will make himlessof a miserable bastard?”

I shrugged. “I’m hungry, and I want to learn how to cook.”