Lucian jolted awake, his chest heaving and drenched in cold sweat. His heart pounded violently as the remnants of the nightmare clawed at his mind.
The same nightmare.
The very memory he still couldn't escape.
The nightmare had ceased for the past few months; however, it had returned to haunt him once more. He saw her again—his mother, lying in the dirt, blood seeping into the earth beneath her fragile figure. The sky was filled with gray smoke, and the houses surrounding her were ablaze. She couldn't move a muscle as she lay there, lifeless.
He reached for her in his dream, but, as always, his hand never quite touched her.
Lucian's gaze shifted toward the nightstand, where two envelopes lay sealed with the royal crest—one from the king and the other from his half-sister, whose face he could barely remember.
"Maybe that's why…" Lucian murmured, still staring at the letters. "That hellish place."
