The thought brought me back to my first nights with Soren. Terrified, bloody, bruised, and hurting in every possible way. I dared not close my eyes during that time, not knowing what would happen to me if I let my guard down even for a minute around the strange goblin and those who followed him. I kept myself so tense, then, waiting for sounds on the other side of the door. A warning that he was coming to hurt me.

But he never did.

I thought it was sure to happen when they moved me from the sickroom I’d been staying in to a room—a number of rooms actually—that could only be accessed or exited through Soren’s own rooms. Back then, when they walked in on me, fire filled my body and I thought about killing myself quickly before he had the chance to do anything. Except for the rooms he gave me had nothing I could use to die. No light fixtures hanging high enough, no sharp objects, even the mirror was polished copper and wouldn’t break no matter how hard I pounded on it.

But day and night came after day and night, and soon, I eased into the new life. After a year, I understood Soren had put me in those rooms to protect me from anyone who might’ve wanted to hurt me, and not because he wanted access to me himself. Because what kind of idiot would go through his lord’s rooms in order to assault a girl, knowing they’d leave a trail behind, if not run into their lord himself.

Those first nights, those first months, I only slept because the healer Tanya had put me under with herbs while she healed my broken body. Every touch, even hers, burned. I never wanted to be touched again.

I was lucky. I had help from people who cared, even if I didn’t know it then. I was sure, whatever their experience, those who served under the old Erlking had much more to fear.

I prayed they did get a dreamless sleep.

I banged into something hard, and Diaval let out a cuss. “Watch where you’re going!” she hissed as I finally noticed the area around me. Outside, the stars shown bright in the sky, the only light to be found. For a moment I stood there, looking up, picking out constellations in my head before Diaval gave my arm a rough jerk.

“Come on, we need to get started,” she said, leading down to an area of the courtyard where stone was inlaid on the ground. The dim light of the stars allowed me to barely see the symbols drawn in chalk across the path, and before I could say anything, Diaval pushed me down into the middle of it.

“Okay, sit down, close your eyes, and reach out,” Diaval instructed, before adding, “with your mind, not your hand.”