The grey light of dawn was seeping through the narrow window at the end of the corridor when Kaelen opened his door.
He had slept through the night—a full night, for the first time since the nightmares began. No screams, no thrashing, no desperate cries in the darkness. He had dreamed, perhaps, but the dreams had not woken him. He had simply slept, and now he was awake, and the world was quiet.
He stepped into the corridor, his bare feet silent on the cold stone, and stopped.
I was there.
Asleep in the wooden chair, my head tilted back against the wall, my mouth slightly open. The fur blanket Elara had given me was tangled around my legs, half on the floor. My hair was loose, falling across my face in dark waves. My hands were folded in my lap, still, peaceful.
Kaelen stood in the doorway, watching me.
