THIRTY-FOUR | A STRING AND A PETAL

I smiled to myself as I hung up the phone. Skye’s voice had begun to trail off, and his words had been peppered with yawns, so I’d let him go. I’d slept through the entire day, and I needed to get up, to stretch, and to hunt.

I luxuriated in the feel of my warm sheets for a minute, sprawling my legs out beneath the duvet. My mouth felt heavy, swollen, and there was a familiar ache in my throat. The sun had dipped away, leaving darkness in its wake.

The only light in my room came from the flat, blue-tinted hue of my phone screen, and it made everything look creepier than if there had been no light at all. It was ghostly, shining off the edges of my desk and bedside table, making them into strange, new shapes that weren’t really there.

With a sigh, I shoved the duvet back with my feet. The cool air swilled around my bare legs, breathing in through the open window. I frowned at it for a moment. I thought I’d left it closed. Then I shook myself; I’d been asleep all day. That always left me