For a moment, I just stood there, watching him go. He met up with Alexei, who glanced at me, then whipped his hand toward Theon. From his sharp gestures and serious expression, I doubted he was saying anything good.
I shook my head and ran my hand through Rune’s fur.
This wasn’t over.
Chapter
Nineteen
LUCILLE
After Sam healed me, I went to the library. I asked Cato to enlighten me on two specific Ancient Greek words, along with anything he could tell me about the general—his powers, weapons, fighting techniques, and strategies.
I read late into the night. The words blurred together, and the weight of exhaustion pulled me under, darkness slowly claiming my thoughts.
Snow crunchedbeneath my boots with each step through the evergreen forest. At the edge of the tree line, I paused. The branches parted to reveal a familiar house. Smoke curled into the starry Earth sky, inviting me with its warmth and memories of a different time—a time when my life was simple and secluded. A time when my motherwasn’t in a coma, I wasn’t battling nightmares and Hell’s military, and I wasn’t locked away in a dimension, unable to help the people I loved.
I shot a hopeful glance up at the stars, wondering if by chance they’d answer the prayer I had never dared to speak aloud.
I had been avoiding her and her condition for weeks, too scared to revisit her. But now, standing in front of the house from my previous life, I hoped this was my mother’s dream.
At our front door, I stared at the handle like it might save me or damn me. Although, I already felt damned. It should be easy to push through the door and suffer the possibility that she wasn’t in there.
But what if she was? What would I say to her? Would she remember what Michael did? Would she know I made a bargain that sentenced her to life in a coma?
Steeling myself, I twisted the knob. The smooth rhythm of jazz music met my ears, tugging at a piece of my heart and pulling me into our house.
Greenery decorated the cozy fire crackling in the chicken-themed fireplace like background music to the soft piano and saxophone. Balsam and clove infused the air, twining with the scent of burning wood. I closed my eyes for a moment and breathed it in, feeling a settling in my soul.
After removing my coat and boots, I walked farther into the living room and spotted two steaming cups of hot cocoa. One was piled high with marshmallows—courtesy of my mom’s marshmallow addiction—and the other had a melting chocolate ball in it. Smiling, I drifted toward the kitchen, where voices murmured behind the wall.
Hope fluttered in my chest. I crept forward, paused at the doorway, then stepped into view.
And found another version of myself talking to my mom, who was wearing her favorite sweater dress.
“What the hell?”
Was this a memory?But I wasn’t nauseous and didn’t feel the disorientation of being in two places at once. My dream-walks continued to both confuse and surprise me.
My mom straightened, and the other version of me vanished.
“Lucy?” She pressed a hand to her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears. “Is it really you?”
“I—”
I stood frozen.
She didn’t hesitate. She skirted the counter and pulled me into her arms. “Oh, Heavenly, I thought you were dead,” she cried. “I thought Michael killed you.” She ran her hand down my hair and buried her face in my neck, tears soaking into my skin. “I thought he killed you.”
Her shaking shoulders and broken sobs shattered my frozen state. “He didn’t, Mom,” I whispered, squeezing her tight. “I’m okay. I’m alive.”
She was here. I could talk to her, hold her, smell the vanilla in her hair. Heavenly, how I missed that smell, missed her hugs.
Buried grief surged, choking my breath. My hands trembled as I clung to her, burying my face in her shoulder. We held each other fiercely, the ragged sounds of our breaths mingling with the music.
Eventually, Mom led me into the living room and handed me the hot chocolate.
I sat in my favorite chair, took a sip of the sugary goodness, and teared up again. “I can’t believe I dream-walked to you.”
