The morning sun had barely risen when Selene stepped outside, her eyes shadowed with determination.
She moved quietly through the hallway, careful not to wake anyone, but just as her hand reached for the doorknob, a soft cough stopped her in her tracks.
Zara stood nearby, her figure leaning against the wall.
Her complexion was pale—too pale.
Her skin, once full of warmth and defiance, looked ashen now, and her eyes carried a weight Selene hadn't noticed the day before.
Selene blinked, her steps halting.
"Zara? Are you okay?"
Zara offered a weak smile.
"Yeah. Just feeling a little off lately. Probably just fatigue. Nothing worth worrying about."
But Selene didn't believe it. Not when Zara looked like she might collapse right there. And not when the voice in her head growled low in warning.
[She's lying.Her body is collapsing. She's not fine. If she meets Madam Verta, she won't survive. She will be offered. Sacrificed.]
The voice hissed.
