I woke up to the sound of rain against my window and the feeling that someone was watching me.
The sensation was so strong that I bolted upright in bed, my heart hammering as I scanned the unfamiliar room. Nothing. Just shadows and the pale gray light of early morning filtering through the curtains. But the feeling persisted—that prickle between my shoulder blades that said I wasn't alone.
"Getting paranoid, Aria," I muttered to myself, throwing back the covers. It had been three days since my first training session with Elder Celeste, and apparently the stress was starting to get to me.
Three days of learning to light candles without destroying them. Three days of meditation exercises that felt more like torture. Three days of Elder Celeste's cryptic comments about coming storms and ancient enemies.
And three days of missing home so badly it hurt.
