He let out a long, irritated breath. “Eat the soup.”
The door began to close.
My pulse hammered as I retrieved the damp strip of fabric from my underwear, counting heartbeats. Just before the door sealed shut, I wedged it into the hinge, nearly losing a finger.
The lock clicked.
I held my breath. But Cahir didn’t return.
Relief shuddered through me, and I sagged forward, hands braced on my knees as my strength faltered again. My gaze swivelled to the small bloodstain smeared against the wall, the single mark missed by whoever had scrubbed the room after the human attacked me.
The same mark that had sparked the idea.
I crossed to the tray, finding an apple set beside the soup. My stomach cramped in protest. I chewed slowly, forcing steady breaths between mouthfuls.
As I ate, a faint surge of energy started to fill me.
I didn’t want to let myself question whether this would work. Yet my mind had a strange habit of conjuring dreadful thoughts at the worst possible moments.
It reminded me of being attacked in a cabin. Of watching my father forget us. The weight of the helmet. The blood I was forced to swallow.
But I chose to let those bad memories fuel me, thicken my skin, and reminded myself of the good ones. Of dancing beneath an oak tree, seeing aurora ribbons cut across the sky, and eating a rather earthy elven cake. I remembered laughter over a dinner table, and ice-blue eyes that warmed my entire body. I remembered a turquoise spring and steady arms keeping me afloat.
There were horrible things here, and there might always be, but there was incredible love too. There was happiness. And there would be a home.Our home,Caedmon had said. For me. For Joy. And for the captives upstairs. I would make sure of it.
The shirt came off over my head and was set aside within reach, in case I needed to correct my work. My arm was bare to me, the freckles stark against the red bra strap.
I took one deep breath. Then my teeth sank into my arm. A muffled grunt left me as pain burst, red and needed.
Chapter 63
Jane
The loss of blood tested what little strength I had. The copper tang clung to my tongue as I dragged my fingers across the padded surface, using my shirt to wipe the edges of the sigils I traced onto the door. Its outline shimmered with each new sigil.
I sagged back on my heels, staring at the twin lines of sigils and coordinates written in my own blood.
My chest heaved.
But I was nearly finished, and Reagan was waiting.
I couldn’t move the metal of the lock, but I could will the fabric wedged inside it, stiffening it just enough. I would be able to press the door open. But not yet.
Another faint shimmer licked across the doorframe as I completed another sigil, going over the order again.
My vision blurred, and I took in a deep breath. Almost—
The lock clicked.
Ice flooded my veins. I moved instinctively to the centre of the boxed room, frozen there, staring at the door as it opened. For a split second, I wondered if it was another human sent to finish what the first had started.
It was Cahir, his eyes narrowing as he took me in.
Only then did I realise how I must have looked. My hands smeared red with blood slicking my arm. My shirt bloodied and discarded on the floor.
“What have you done?” he asked, his eyes locking on the bite mark as he stepped inside, leaving the door ajar. The sigils stark, right behind him.
Panic clawed up my throat. He couldn’t take me back to Madden. It was too soon.
