I woke up choking on my own breath.
For a moment, I genuinely thought the metal collar was still around my neck.
My hands flew up before I could stop them, fingers digging into skin that was bare, warm, unbranded. No cold iron. No engraved sigils. No invisible leash tugging at my spine.
Just sweat.
Sheets tangled around my legs. The early gray of dawn pressing through the dormitory curtains. My heart thundering so violently I half expected someone to burst into the room and accuse me of hiding contraband rhythm in my chest.
I sat up slowly.
I remembered everything.
The castle. The endless scrubbing. The polished marble floors that reflected nothing but my own pathetic shape. The collar. The sounds behind that door. The jealousy. The stupid, impulsive curiosity.
And the golden eyes.
God.
I pressed my palms against my face and exhaled, long and shaky.
It had been a dream.
It had not been a dream.
