Chapter 87 The Snow In Her Dream

• The night was unnaturally still.No wind brushed against the villa’s windows, no frost creaked on the glass — only the faint, rhythmic crackle of the fire in the next room. Yet Lucy woke as if the world had roared around her. Her breath came fast, shallow. Her body felt caught between fever and frost.
• She sat up abruptly, the remnants of the dream clinging to her like smoke. Her hands trembled as she pressed them against her chest, feeling her pulse race beneath her skin.It had felt too real — the kind of dream that left you unsure which world you truly belonged to.
• Her room was dimly lit by the hearth’s afterglow seeping under the door. She rose, drew her shawl around her shoulders, and stepped out into the hall. The villa’s interior was warm, safe — the Domain’s quiet perfection pressing softly against the chaos that raged beyond its unseen boundary.