The Academy's underground Bone Market opened only on blood moons—and tonight, the crimson glow soaked the halls in eerie light. Students weren't technically allowed in, but Rose wasn't one for rules.
With Nimbus hidden in her cloak's hood, she slipped through the cellar hatch behind the broom closet, following the music of cursed flutes and low whispers of vendors selling phoenix tears, bottled screams, and illegal love charms.
She was there for one reason: answers.
The dream-bond with Belladoma wasn't fading—it was strengthening. And Rose didn't believe for a second it was an accident.
At a stall draped in cobwebs and spells, she found a witch named Marlo who dealt in magical entanglements.
"Shared dreaming?" Marlo rasped. "That's rare. Old blood. Or an unfinished bond. You've got threads on you, girl."
Rose stiffened. "What kind of threads?"
Marlo's third eye opened—literally—and gazed into her aura. "Something's tying you to someone. Deep. Maybe dangerous."
Rose left with a pocketful of truthroot and a head full of questions.
When she returned to her room, there was a note on her pillow. No signature. Just one sentence, written in ink that shimmered like stormlight:
You shouldn't have gone alone.