“You should head upstairs and get some sleep. You’re going to need your energy for tomorrow,” I say, and Haven cocks her head at me.
“Why? Big plans in the morning? Are we going to go foraging for food in the wilderness? Setting bear traps?”
“Nope.” I grin. “Tomorrow we’re going to start training with your magic.”
She freezes. I’ve clearly caught her off guard. A touch of fear shines in her gaze.
“It’s going to be all right,” I assure her. “I don’t think it’s your magic attracting the demon. It’s important for you to learn how to use it to defend yourself.”
Haven sighs. “You’re probably right,” she says, but something feels off. “Okay, I’m going to head to bed. I should warn you, I’m not an early riser.”
I cock a brow. “Then I should warn you that I am.”
She chuckles and heads for the stairs. I start toward the front door, wanting to do one more perimeter check before calling it a night.
“And Becks,” she calls, and I glance over my shoulder to see she’s paused halfway up the stairs. “For what it’s worth, I think you made the right decision.”
“About what?”
“About the dragon heir. About not letting the council rule your life anymore.”
I explained about how the council picks the dragon heir’s life-mate. It would have been the natural time to tell her about me and Locklyn, but when I tried, I couldn’t find the words.
At the time, I told myself that detail didn’t really matter. It was in the past, so why bring it up?
“No one should tell you who to be with,” Haven says. “You should hold out for the right one for you.”
She offers a small smile and then continues up the steps.
I stare at the place she disappeared for a long time, knowing it shouldn’t matter whether she knows about Locklyn and me—but wondering why it suddenly feels like it does.
Sixteen
HAVEN
A crash wakes me from a deep sleep and I sit up with a gasp, disoriented at first before I remember where I am.
In the safe house with Becks, in the middle of nowhere.
Outside, the wind howls, practically shaking the cabin with the force of the gusts. It’s amazing I stayed asleep as long as I did.
The curtains next to the bed billow with the next gust, and I realize I left the window cracked before falling asleep.
I may like it warm when I’m awake but have always preferred the temperature lower when I’m sleeping so I can bundle up in my bedding. Now the room is practically glacial. In the low light I can see white puffs of condensation in the air every time I exhale.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I slip from underneath the comforter to shut the window. My feet touch the icy hardwood floors, and a shiver works its way through me. Goose bumps break out on my arms as I pad over to the window, my off-the-shoulder sleep tee doing very little to keep me warm.
I reach for the window to seal it and draw the curtains shut, already picturing the warmth of the bed behind me, but the storm outside steals my attention.
My room backs onto the forest. I know the trees are there, but I can’t see them because flurries of snow whip against the glass. Big, fat flakes funnel and twist through the darkness, making it impossible to see more than a few feet, even with my enhanced eyesight.
It feels like staring into a frozen abyss.
A prickle of unease slides over me, my heartbeat quickening.
I latch the window and reach for the curtains when something slams into the glass right in front of my face.
A startled cry catches in my throat as I reel back. My feet get tangled in my pile of discarded clothes and I go down, landing on my hip.
