Drip,step.
Drip,step.
Drip,step.
The back of my neck prickles, and my heart toils.
He’s there. A monster who caught a whiff of his prey. Because that’s what I am, I realize …
Prey.
I lead him into the sordid shadow of the wall, down the tight alleyway that runs along the base of it, and past the wooden barrel that I sat beside as I snipped my crystal bloom. I reach the edge of the drain and drop onto my bum, then leap into the soggy muck that splashes up my calves when I land. Turning to the drain, I take a deep breath and step past the cluster of lanterns illuminating the entrance.
With every step I take down the tunnel,hisfootsteps splash behind me—loud and hulking. As though he’s purposely making his presence known. Like I could ever miss a beat.
I’m tuned into him. Innately.
I always thought there was something special about the fact that I feel the scrape of his stare across my skin. Or that his scent has such a physical effect on my ability to function. That he could see into me, through me, exposing the very core of my being to his intoxicating self.
Now I wonder if it was just my body’s built-in awareness screaming at me that there’s a predator in my midst. If my sick addiction to pain confused me into thinking it was somethingmore.
I have, afterall, always been a sucker for punishment.
There’s a new grate at the end of the tunnel, lit by the halo of blazing lanterns. Also replaced.
I can feel Rhordyn crushing the space behind me like death come to steal my last breath. Can feel his silent questions hammering into me like nails through my vertebrae as I pull my hairpin free and dig it into the lock.
Twisting.
Flicking.
It clunks open, and I shove the grate wide, leaving a smear of blood across the bars. I pocket the pin and step out across the large, slippery stones glistening in the morning light that does nothing to ease the wild thoughts thrashing inside me.
The long grass tickles my sodden calves as I walk down the hill with a set jaw and a firestorm in my heart. The small orchard Gael and I ate beneath comes into view, and I feelthemwatching me from the shadowed pools hugging the jungle ahead—so deep and dark in contrast to the places where the sunlight hits.
Irilak.
Lured by their attentive stares, I pass the peach tree in long, determined strides, drawn to that hard line between life and a swift, dehydrating death that separates me from the truth.
The nest of Irilak converge like a dark, flickering storm of vapor—so many of them it’s hard to pull the individuals apart. A divot in the swarm forms before me as my foot slides into the shadows.
A large, chilled hand clamps down on my arm.
My head whips around, and I look into Rhordyn’s pewter eyes. “Let go of me.”
He snarls, hand snapping down at his side.
I rip my stare forward and step deeper into the gloom, paving a path through the Irilak like splitting water.
The silence is deafening.
There are no birds tittering their morning tune, no bees bouncing from bloom to bloom, no wind rustling through the trees. Nothing but my footsteps crunching across the underbrush, announcing my every step that’s not followed byhim.
“Orlaith, that’s far enough.”
“No,” I bite out through clenched teeth.
Not even close.
