ANGELICA POV
*The morning after sealing the witch’s soul into the dagger*
Pain.
It was the first thing I registered. A dull, throbbing ache spreading through every inch of my body, weighing me down like chains. My limbs felt heavy, unmovable, and for a terrifying moment, I thought I was back there—trapped, helpless, waiting for the next moment of suffering.
I forced myself to take a breath, drawing in the sharp scent of antiseptic, the sterile chill of a hospital room. Not the damp, suffocating air of Francine’s dungeon.
Not there.
A shudder ran through me, and it was then that I felt something else—warmth, solid and grounding, wrapped around my arm. A presence so strong it sent tingles across my skin, a sensation I had never felt before but instinctively knew.
Mate.
The realizatio
