Ro's eyes fluttered open to a dimly lit chamber she didn't recognize. Her body felt heavy, wrong, like it didn't belong to her anymore. She tried to sit up and gasped. A sharp ache tore through where the blade had pierced her.
Her hand flew to the wound, and her fingers brushed against a thin layer of bandages underneath her night gown. The ache subsided to a dull throb and for many moments, she sat there, stiff.
Alive.
She was still alive.
The realization did not bring any relief. Only dread.
The ceremony. The blood. Tury's severed head. Iver's blade in her chest. The cold liquid forced down her throat.
She lurched over, dry heaving. Her throat burned, her stomach clenched, but nothing came up. She could still remember the sickening sensation seeping into her. It had been full of his presence. She had felt him within her right before she blacked out!
