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Chapter 36 - The Smoke Prince

Darkness, thick and heavy, like breathing stone. The air was wet with soot, the cloying scent of ash, damp earth, and blood. Arin's eyes fluttered open. She lay on a bed of scratchy furs, her fingers curled into her palms, dried blood webbed between them. Her body ached, a deep, bruising throb, as if she'd been dragged across mountains.

Her mouth tasted of iron. Her mind felt like a crater, raw and empty, where her soul used to sit. She remembered collapsing in the carriage. The biting snow, the flickering flames behind them in the rearview. The voice – that insidious voice – still whispering even now, soft as smoke but sharp as splinters. You are mine now. You did what you were meant to do. She shuddered, a full-body tremor.

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