I whip around and stalk to the window, staring out through the fog—gently shifting. Distant glimpses of Moltenmaw nests emerge through the pale gloom, the odd colorful beast streaking skyward, screeching to the moons.
I wish I was out there. Not in here facing …this.A past I’ve buried deep, with no tombstone to mark its place.
Purposefully.
“Who, Moonbeam?” Though sturdy and composed, the questionriots. Rabid, like a tick-bitten beast. “I asked you for a name once. I’ll give you one more chance to tell me on your own, but Iwillfind out.”
“Shit,” I mutter to myself as a scalding past nips at me. Memories of a small cell that had everything and nothing at all, shared with someone who taught me how to speak and smile.
How todream.
“Imagine, Raeve. Imagine a world that doesn’t hurt …”
At the soft echo of Fallon’s words—spoken from a voice too sweet for this fucked-up world in which she had so muchhopefor—something inside me splits.
Crumbles.
“Not Sereme,” I rasp. “My blood bind is entirely unrelated to the old runes.”
Most of them earned willingly. A teeth-gritted tradeoff for the female I would’ve given my life for … had Arkyn only asked me to hand it over.
Not that I dare divulge any of that.
“So you remember receiving them? They wereafterthe fall?”
“Yes.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “It was after the fucking fall.”
I don’t realize he’s right behind me until he has his hand wrapped around my wrist, using his firm grip to jerk mine from where it’s tucked beneath my arm. He spins me around until we’re almost face-to-face, my hand the only thing between us—raised like a flag.
“Are they the reason for this?”
No point asking for confirmation of his meaning, the skin down the sides of my nails scratched so raw they’re bleeding in places.
My gaze drifts past the messy wounds to his eyes—heavy on me.
No, Kaan. My fingers have itched since I woke in that cell; confused.
Alone.
Voiceless and powerless.
“It certainly didn’t help.”
He frowns, and I sense the energy welling beneath his skin. The hotblooded rage barely contained.
“Leave it.Please.”
He pulls me so close there’s no space between us.
I melt against him. Clay softening from the deep knead of his mighty presence, like he has some invisible power over my muscles.
My spine.
My fucking fortitude.
“Why, Moonbeam?” He searches my eyes, back and forth as his other hand splays between my shoulder blades, making my breath hitch. “Why won’t you give me a name?”
Because I wasn’t reborn fearless. It was burnt from me in bits now caught in the clenched fists of a male who stalks my slumber-terrors.
