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A calming darkness danced around her feet, whispering around every branch and misting beyond the leaves. The sun’s positioning suggested some time in the afternoon, carrying its own warmth in its rays, but this time of year, the wind blew with a bite against her body. A corset vest wrapped her body and flowed loosely in the back, down to her knees, but fell short in the front. The leather hugged over a long-sleeved navy tunic, almost too warm for her to bear, and cinched tight around her waist by a three-strapped leather belt.

Normally this form of rebellion was used for refining learned skills. Sword work. Bow and arrow accuracy. Hunting and tracking. Sometimes sleeping or foraging. Real and true rest could be found out there when she couldn’t obtain it in the manor.

But today, she didn’t seek sleep.

With the obsidian jeweled dagger nestled inside her boot, and a blade sheathed at her side, she climbed a steep wooded incline into the boundless forest beyond the meadow and Telldairan walls. A thick labyrinth of leaves snuffed out most of the sunlight, but she knew the route without its glistening aid. The darkness within weighed heavy against her shoulders, forcing pinpricks of aching nerves to fire inside her legs when she glimpsed her bruised wrist. Alora’s breath caught at the sight. Her mind awakened, replaying moments of brutal hands of betrayal.

She could feel it brimming.

No, not now. Please, not now.

Her heart began to beat faster.

Not now, please!

And then, it wasn’t trees surrounding her—it wasn’t a forest at all.

Suffocating ivory walls faded into view.

Bloodstained rugs of emerald and gold, shattered glass peppered across hallways, dining rooms, and bedroom floors.

Broken handrails upon a grand staircase. Blood dripping down every redwood step. Cracked marble, shattered mirrors, punctured holes on wood-paneled walls a head width apart, shattered belongings. A boarded-up window.

The forest wasn’t there at all anymore. Even the darkness couldn’t persuade her to break the cage of her broken mind. Everything closed in. She couldn’t feel the air around her. Couldn’t breathe. Not fast enough. Her insides burned, pleading for comfort. Pleading to get out, to run, to escape, to?—

Alora gasped. Unable to fill her lungs.

That hammering heartbeat thundered inside her aching, taut chest.

Without any recollection of her steps, she found herself feet from a ledge. Overlooking a deadly drop into the valley floor.

Burning fists balled tightly by her side. Her bruised wrist ached with the tension. Each phantom touch of Kaine’s hand invaded her body as she gripped her fists tighter. Nails digging sharply into her palms as a strong heat flared through her face, radiating to her core, her center, to the sturdy feet beneath her.

Time seemed to slow to a series of imperceptible gasps.

Please don’t do this. Not again.

Every starsdamn thing he had ever done to her constricted her veins. Every painful memory, every lie. Every thoughtless, half-assed apology that the scent of red roses clung to. Each earth-shattering blow against her. The broken bones andbruises. All the moments he had thrust her down the marble of the grand staircase, burned her with the dining room candles, or cut her with shards of glass. Every moment waking on the floor beneath his boots or in his bed.

Burning tears flooded down her rosy cheeks.

It was too hot. She was too hot. Always too hot.

Her throat constricted.

She’d hadenough.

Enough.

Enough.

Enough.

White flames detonated…

She was on fire.

Nothing mattered, nothing at all. Her skin glowed with white flames that didn’t burn her. Snowy hair radiated in a raging glow. Sapphires turned to embered eyes, and fire singed through every vein.