Sunlight hit my face like a slap.
Not the gentle, filtered light of enchanted sconces or the ambient glow of a magic circle. Real sunlight — raw, unfiltered, morning sunlight — cutting through a window I didn't recognize and landing directly on my eyelids with the precision of a targeted spell.
I groaned. My body stretched — involuntarily, the muscles lengthening, the spine popping in three places, my tail extending to its full length and then curling back. The sheets beneath me were soft. Softer than the rooftop I'd passed out on. The mattress was decent — not the silk-covered luxury of the mansion, but comfortable. Clean. The scent of lavender and starched cotton filled the air.
My eyes opened. Ceiling. White plaster, with a faint crack running from the corner to the center. Not my ceiling. Not the mansion's vaulted, enchanted, rune-inscribed ceiling. This was... ordinary.
