Willow's eyes opened slowly, and the first thing she saw was a pair of mischievous green eyes staring back at her. A startled yelp tore from her throat, and she shot upright only to freeze when she realized she wasn't looking at a person at all, but a painted portrait of Ezrik looming over her from the ceiling.
"Huh?" Her gaze darted around the room, and her stomach dropped. Recognition hit her like a slap.
"This is… Ezrik's room."
Her jaw slackened. "No, no, no."
She scrambled off the bed, but a sudden wave of dizziness slammed into her, sending her collapsing right back onto the bed.
Groaning, she clutched at her pounding head and fisted the duvet for support, forcing herself to lie still until the spinning stopped.
Memories came flooding back. Ezrik's taunting words. The way she had seen red the moment he told her to warm his bed. And then...
Willow froze, staring at her trembling hands. Horror tightened her chest.
