Alexander felt warm. Much warmer than he's ever felt for months since his coronation. Everything is warm, and the once-king can't reach for his powers. Warm blood is pumping in his veins, keeping him warm, but he can't even touch the shadows between his fingers. How? He's supposed to be unstoppable, no binding spells can hold him down.
He slowly opened up his eyes, and he's almost blinded by the sunlight seeping through the window. He grimaced as he turned his face away from the warmth of the sun to the white painted ceiling.
Wait, white ceiling? His bed canopy is green, not white. He hasn't seen white ceilings since his days living at at the Monastery's dorms.
The Monastery...
Suddenly, his eyes widened as he proceeded his surroundings. White ceiling, glass window with creamy yellow curtains, cotton blanket draped over himself, a pair of arms wrapped around his torso, a face on his bare chest and a beating heart matching his own.
