Rain.
The master bedroom feels like it’s closing on me despite it being ridiculously large. Huge windows show nothing but the night sky and ocean waves slamming into the cliffs below.
The sound is loud and angry, matching the wild thump in my chest. The bed sits in the middle like some giant dark cloud made of silk sheets and fluffy pillows.
It smells like Rhysand and every time I catch that scent, my stomach twists in a way I hate.
This place is gorgeous. It’s also a cage.
I’ve been walking circles around the room for what feels like hours, after Rhysand left me here to “think” with a platter of food I’ve not touched.
The only thing I found to wear after a long, hot shower is one of his shirts hanging in the closet.
He said he’ll get my things tomorrow, and I hope Emma gives whoev
