My stomach twists, bile threatening to erupt up my throat.
Eyes slitted, I peel the rug, shift the stone with trembling hands, and dig into my hidden compartment. I twist the lid off the first jar my fingers collide with, retrieving three nodes and jamming two under my chalky tongue before flopping backward.
The cool stone eases my sins while I gather the will to move again.
Crawling to my refreshment table, I pull myself up and pour a glass of water, tossing it back before gripping the vanity and braving the mirror for the first time in a very long while.
Another groan cracks out of me.
I pinch my pallid cheeks, lick my chapped lips. My braid is matted, eyes flat and gray rather than the usual lilac that sometimes lures me strange looks, the skin beneath them dark ...
Hell. I look like hell. Probably because I dosed up before I went to bed, then twice again when I woke throughout the night, hoping to avoid another nightmare.
Stupid, considering I’m on the last of my caspun, but I wasn’t thinking about that at the time. I was too preoccupied with my determination to escape for a bit.
I stuff the third node beneath my tongue for good, counteractive measure. I’ve never taken three before, but if I go to training looking likethis?Well. Baze will make me eat stone.
I’m dressed, watered, and lugging my sword behind me like an anchor when the drugs kick in. By the time I’m pushing open the doors of the large, circular hall with a glass roof and absolutely no purpose other than my daily torture sessions, my heart feels like it’s shooting little bolts of lightning all through my veins.
I sway into the room, a cocksure grin splitting my face. Spotting Baze standing by the window, I fling my sword into the air and swipe it up. “Watch out, Baze. I’m feeling it. You won’t be ridingmyass today ... it’ll be the other way around.”
I toss the weapon again just as Baze turns.
That’s not Baze...
The sword clatters to the ground, making me flinch.
“Is that so?” Rhordyn snips, stalking forward, his own wooden sword swinging from his hand.
“Fuck.”
I slide back a step, trying to swallow my heart that somehow managed to worm its way up my throat, and take a second to peer around the room.
We’re alone.
Double fuck.
“Where’s Baze?” I squeeze out, crouching to retrieve my sword while Rhordyn circles me with long, prowling strides.
“Probably using the spare time to ride someone else’s ass,” he burrs, and I leer at the roof. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, Orlaith.”
He sure knows how to set a tone.
I peek at the door, contemplating a quick dash to freedom. I’m more jacked than I’ve ever been. If I flap my arms fast enough, I could probably flutter out of here like a mail sprite.
I draw a deep breath, trying to calm the erratic sledge of my heart ...
Our gazes collide like rocks smashing together, and his nostrils flare, eyes narrowing. “You’d make it halfway to the door if you’re lucky. But by all means,” he says, gesturing toward the exit with a wave of his hand, “give it a shot.”
My head kicks back as if I’ve been slapped.
Am I that transparent?
“Yes.”
The word punches down my throat and lands a weight in my stomach. Apparently my opiate-smeared brain didn’t realize I asked that question aloud.
“How long have you known?”
