No. No, gods, no.
This is wrong. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be seeing this. Vann told me he’d protect me. Where was he in my dreams?
I turn and run. My breath burns as I sprint through the tunnels, searching for the exit. I move faster than I should—faster than I ever could in waking moments. The tunnels shift around me, remolding themselves in unnatural shapes. Walls break apart and rebuild, stone folds in on itself like a living thing.
One path opens. A single arched entrance.
I lunge toward it. As soon as I push through, my body jerks—like being pulled backward through water—and I wake.
My eyes snap open and I gasp for air. It takes me a second to remember where I am—in Liana’s house. And then I remember Vann was with me the last time I was awake.
My arms pull against the restraints, my fingers twisting—they’re loose. That’s right. Vann loosened them. Something warm sparks in my chest. He had been kind again. I turn my head, heart pounding and find the man in question asleep.
The sight of him takes me off guard. His broad frame leans back in the chair, his breathing slow, steady. His tail is laid over his lap, curled around a paint pot. The flickering spell-light casts soft shadows across his deep, blue face, and his braid falls over his shoulder. Neatly stacked beside him are painting supplies, brushes still wet with pigment.
In front of him, half a dozen painted cards are laid out on clear display.
What was he thinking, sleeping around me?
I wiggle my hand against the silk rope again and realize I can pull myself free. The thought is intoxicating. I could get out of here. Run away from the memories.
But then what? Go home? Risk killing someone else?
The people I love live in this neighborhood. Svanna, Iryth, and their son. Ra’Salore has two daughters with his mate Melisa. Teo and Estela are in the palace, not far away. I could run to their children’s rooms right now.
What happens if I wake up covered in blood again, and it turns out to be Vann’s? My heart skips a beat.
I work the ropes against my skin, rolling my wrists until one finally slips free. I pause, looking back at Vann and watching for any sign of movement. Nothing.
Unusual.
The question from before slams into me:What now?
Only one answer stares back at me. Leave Enduvida. It doesn’t matter if it feels like a boulder crashing into my chest. I have to go.
Blood rushes into my numb limbs and burns. I flex my fingers, my muscles sore from hours of tension.
I loosen the bindings at my ankles, rubbing the circulation back into my legs. Then, as quietly as possible, I slide off the makeshift bed-table, my feet hitting the cold floor.
I don’t let myself hesitate. I open the door quietly and slip out.
The hallway in Liana’s home is filled with books and crystals and fungi of various species. I linger, walking quietly toward the exit. I’m barely halfway when the door creaks open and I freeze.
Liana stands there.
She looks tired, her usually pristine robes rumpled, her hair loose. But the strangest part is the lack of surprise on her face. She takes me in without alarm.
“You’re not going to kill me, are you?” she asks dryly.
A painful ache hollows out my chest.
I lift my hands slowly. “I’m awake. No weapon, either.”
She raises a brow, glancing toward the pointed crystals lining the walls. Any number of them could, in theory, kill someone.
I clear my throat. Her frown deepens.
“I just came from the Scrying Grotto,” she says.