CLARABEL’S POV

I lay awake on the thick furs, staring up at the stone ceiling of the adjoined room, my chest tight. All I could feel inside of me was tightness. Like I was trapped in a cage.

Moving into the space right next to Malakai’s private quarters meant there was no escaping him.

It meant I would hear every sound carried through the thick wood of the connecting door; the sound of his boots against the floor, his voice, the constant shifting of papers.

That was the least thing I wanted.

Being inside his walls was enough prison already.

I sat up slowly, pulling my shawl around my shoulders,...