MasukBANG.The knock on the door cracked through the dream like a whip. Nicoli jolted upright, breath tearing from his lungs in a harsh gasp.The world was wrong. Still moving. Still blurred. For a moment, he didn’t know where he was. The darkness still clung to him, heavy and suffocating—her voice echoing like a ghost just out of reach. His heart slammed against his ribs, the afterimage of her face still burned behind his eyes.He couldn’t save her. He tried but he couldn’t…“Ana,” He dragged a hand down his face, fingers trembling as they brushed over cold skin. His chest ached as though the cord had broken inside him for real.It took several long, shaky breaths before he could even swallow.Slowly, painfully, his surroundings came into focus.The orange glow of the hearth cast flickering shadows across the bookshelves. The rich scent of pine logs and old parchment filled his nose. His chair creaked beneath him as he shifted, the worn leather catching against the back of his tunic.He w
*Nicoli*“Nicoli,” Her voice brushed against him like frost across skin—soft, delicate, threading through the air with a mournful tremor that made his chest constrict. He froze mid-step, feet sinking deeper into virgin snow. The sound curled up from somewhere deep within the hedge maze, floating through the fog like a dying breath. His own breath hitched, crystallizing in the bitter air, forming ghostly spirals that dissipated into the gray void surrounding him.Ana.But where? He spun sharply, pulse hammering against his throat. His eyes strained through the suffocating fog, but it was thick—so thick it clung to his lashes, so dense he could barely make out his own trembling fingers until they brushed against his face. The cold bit at his fingertips, numbing them instantly."Ana?" His voice cracked, swallowed by the oppressive silence.No answer. Only the brittle hush of frozen leaves rattling against dead branches, and somewhere distant, the ominous groan of ice splitting. The s
*Ana*“No,” I whisper, the word a razor's edge against the burning silence filling my head."It isn’t true.” The confession slides from my lips—trembling, fragile as blown glass slipping from desperate fingers. Falling. Slipping. Too thin. Too delicate to catch. They shatter in the stillness, each fragment cutting deeper than the last."I can't be in love with Nicoli—" But the sentence splinters off in my throat. It dies half-born, smothered beneath the weight pressing in from every side. Because the room is shifting. Subtly. Menacingly. But it will not stop like a pebble rolling down a great hill, gaining momentum with every stretched moment.The air bends first—then the walls. Stone walls seem to breathe, pressing closer like a closing jaw. Carved molding above the hearth liquefies, candlelight blurring into molten halos that pulse and writhe. Each breath becomes a razor—sharp, shallow, scraping against the inside of my throat.I cannot breathe.The sound that leaves me is half ga
*Anastasia*“I thought you could use a friend, just about now.”The word—friend—hangs over me, almost mockingly, slicing through the stillness of the room. It catches in my throat, sharp and bitter, a shard of glass impossible to swallow. Behind me, the fire in the grate sputters and hisses, a dying serpent casting its last embers across stone-gray walls. Each spark feels like a taunting whisper, a brittle laugh echoing the fractures of the day.Not because his words were untrue—but because they laid bare the raw, bleeding wound of what had transpired between Hidi and me. The memory burns like a brand, fresh and searing, leaving no room for excuse because the fight is still too fresh, no time yet to heal or balm.My fingers curl around the door knob, knuckles bleaching white, tendons straining beneath skin pulled taut with tension. I should close the door right now. Dismiss him. Do anything but stand here, suspended between the hollow emptiness of the hallway and the dangerous promise
*Mykhol*The high vaulted ceiling still trembled with the aftermath of her voice. It clung to the carved stone like smoke after a fire—sharp, commanding, impossible to ignore.The resonance hung thicker than the firepits still crackling hungrily into the woodpiles, the scent of burning oak and pine mixing with the heady perfumes of the nobility. Even now, the echo of it shivered down his spine, raising the fine hairs on his arms beneath layers of silk and velvet.Gods, that voice. He’d nearly trembled at the sound of it.He hadn’t known Ana could raise her voice like that—clean and precise, like a sword drawn just before the strike. The raw power of it had rippled through the court, causing silks to flutter and jewels to shiver against throats. And though her words hadn't been aimed at him, they'd slipped under his skin just the same, igniting a slow, molten ache beneath his ribs that spread downward like liquid fire.His fingers twitched at his side, the leather of his gloves creakin
*Anastasia*The echo of the court doors sealing shut behind me brings instant relief—until it doesn’t. The sound is soft and clean on it hinges as it clicks behind me, a whisper of finality rather than the slam my trembling hands wanted to deliver. But somehow, that gentle sound feels heavier than any thunderous crash could have been.As if I had to will the doors closed with more than force—with all my spine, with silence, with the last shreds of composure I can manage to scrape together against the turbulence raging inside. For an instant, the sound feels final. Solid. Like the world has agreed to stop pressing against my skull, to grant me a single moment of mercy.For a breathless moment, the corridor offers stillness. No voices clamoring over mine. No red eyes mercilessly looking at me as if daring to see the first sign of weakness. No judgment hanging in the air like a blade waiting to fall.Just cold air scented with the faint lingering ghosts of wax and candle smoke, the subtl







