“Always, but I’m not supportive of hormone-induced stupidity. You’re not ready to face what’s out there. Certainly not likethat.”
“I’ve survived them before,” I reply, trying to ignore the tremble in my voice—that battered part of me that’s agreeing with him. Because the raging inferno low in my gut is threatening to turn me into a torch if I don’t chase Rhordyn rightnow.
“I’m not talking about theVruks,” Baze growls, sliding forward until barely an inch of space separates us. “Now, I’m awfully sick of breathing through my mouth. So either turn around and climb that tower or I’ll pick you up, toss you over my shoulder, and carry you up there myself.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, I fucking would.” He puts pressure on the blade and my eyes flare, cauterizing the urge to swallow lest I drive the thing into my own damn throat. “And I’d pay for it dearly. So why don’t you be a good girl and do what you’re told for a change.”
There is no room for movement in his command, and it occurs to me that he’s learning some terrible habits from our bossy High Master.
“Fine,” I hiss, slamming my hands against his chest and shoving.
Hard.
He stumbles back a few steps, gaze locked on his pectoral. The spot I just touched him. He releases a long, dramatic sigh, resheathing the blade down the inside of his boot and muttering words I don’t understand. When he unravels ... his eyes are pitch black.
He jerks his chin toward my stairs. “Now, Laith. Before you do any more damage.”
There’s something unbridled in the scrape of his voice, and I feel it scour every inch of my skin.
He glides forward a step—the motion so smooth it reminds me of the mountain cat I once saw prowling through the forest—and my heart leaps into my throat.
This time, I have the good sense not to argue.
* * *
Ican hear the howls from my tower—a sound derived straight from the pit of my nightmares. Not even my dense, feather-stuffed pillows can stifle the racket.
Rhordyn’s down there somewhere. Withthem.
Another pained moan slips out.
Eyes squeezed shut, robe clinging to my sweat-slicked body like a second skin, I tuck my knees up close to my chest and stuff another piece of night bark into my mouth. My third in just as many minutes.
It tastes like dirt and is corrosive to your teeth, but it’s my last resort. A fast-acting sedative that wears off not long after you’ve been dunked into an inky sea of sleep. Though the effects don’t last long, I’m hoping the kick is all it takes considering I’ve barely slept in days.
I just need to be free of this yearning ache between my legs and the sounds I can’t escape; need to be rid of this hollow desperation urging me to race down Stony Stem and dart across my Safety Line. For me to follow Rhordyn into the forest.
I stuff my face into the balled-up pillow slip that smells like him and close my eyes, waiting for sleep to ease me out of this living nightmare. Praying the monsters don’t follow me into the abyss.
But they do.
They always do.
I dream of their vicious talons, of fire licking at my toes and wide eyes that never blink. I dream of a little boy with glistening irises and stretched-out arms, but he’s so far away I don’t think I’ll ever be able to reach him.
I dream of an unyielding hand wrapped around my throat, belonging to a man I think I recognize.
Most of all, I dream ofhim...
Rhordyn.
Somehow, that’s the most frightening dream of all.
Too much blood—the metallic scent so potent it clogs the back of my throat. The ground shakes, again and again, like giants are stomping.
If I can’t see them, they can’t see me.
