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Thirty-Five
WILLOW
Jostling wakes me. My stomach rolls. Drunkenly, I catch fireworks in the darkness of changing landscapes. Fox’s sweet moss-and-woodsy scent. Blood. Ribs sticking out. His hunched, dark body feeding like a wild animal.
Vomit burns the back of my throat, and I scream, shoving him away from me. “Get off me!”
The flashing gets faster. We’re moving at breakneck speed. But something is wrong. We pause, jolting to a stop, then surge forward again. I don’t remember it being this bad. I can’t hold it.
Nausea rises. I somehow push him and roll at the same time. We spill from the darkness. Icy air blasts my sweaty body, and then I hit the dirt hard. I tumble, and my stormy skirt catches and rips.
“Willow!” Footsteps thud closer.
I land on my stomach, groan, and breathe heavily to stop more puke pouring from my throat. How much did I drink? My head pounds. My mouth is somehow cardboard and wet at the same time.
“Are you okay?” A sticky, bloody hand reaches for me.
I shove him away. “Don’t touch me.”
“I’m sorry. Something is wrong with myflickering. It’s not working as it should.”
Where are we? I force my bleary eyes to look around, but I can’t fight the pounding in my head.
“We’re almost home,” he whispers, reaching for me again. “Just let me get you inside before anyone sees.”
“No.” I push him away. All I see is the blood. One minute, the sweaty Radiant tugged me onto his lap. The next, he was on the ground being ripped apart and devoured. Wheezing, I stagger and rein in my vision to focus on the tall, dark-haired, fucking stunning male specimen before me. Even with all the blood dripping from his mouth and down his carved chest, coating his arms, he still looks perfect.
The blood isn’t what horrifies me. I’ve ripped apart my opponents with fangs and claws. Nero wanted to eviscerate the poor souls. Wanted to see how far gone a body could be before I failed to return it to life.
The answer was far. Very far.
What horrifies me is how Fox lost control. He was a beast ruled by primal hunger. Milford was dead in seconds. There was no time to stop it. At that moment, I witnessed the birth of the horror stories, the real-life boogeyman. The reason humans fear to tread in fae territory. This is the side the Sluagh have been hiding from me.
“Why did you do it?” I can’t breathe.
“He wasn’t a good person.” His eyes widen as I stumble back. “Please, Willow. Let’s go inside. I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”
Turning, I realize we’re outside Shadowfall Keep. Right before the rickety rope bridge.
Wait. How can I remember why Fox is covered in blood if we’re out here?
It’s hard to make my thoughts walk in a straight line, but I know I’m supposed to forget everything.
“You did something naughty to get me out,” I ramble. “To let me keep my memories.”
I stagger forward, eyes locked onto the ropy bridge as an anchor for my wandering balance.
He’s at my side instantly. “Let meflickerus inside.”
“I’m not going with you.”
“You’re being stubborn.” He tries to take me, but weflickertwo feet. I stumble, scream in frustration, and shove him away.
“I said I don’t want you!”
Dismay crumples his expression. He shows his palms in surrender. What I meant to say is I don’t want toflicker, but the path between my brain and tongue is disconnected. Now I feel shitty for hurting his feelings. This could all be another trick. Another manipulation.
I want to walk to the keep on my own two feet.
