Page 125 of Hellbound

She—they—are legion. And yet they are utterly alone.

A memory. Her memory. The Remnant was taking her back. Shards of glass embedded themselves in her throat as she screamed. Useless. She’d never get out. Never be free again.

“Marian!”

The sound of her own name ejected her from the nightmare. Her eyes snapped open and locked on twin stars of burning blue. Large hands framed her face as she lay on her back, her t-shirt soaked with sweat.

Her final scream dissolved on a broken gasp. She clutched Vale’s wrists like a lifeline. She needed him to anchor her here before the darkness took her back. Another wave was coming for her, and she wasn’t ready.

“That’s it. Breathe slowly,” he soothed. Fingers found her pulse. “Keep your eyes on me. I have you.”

But the darkness remained, furling in the corners of her eyes. She tried to summon her shadows to protect her from the memory of the Remnant. Instead, she found only a vicious ache in her heart and panic too wild to tame.

Her hands shook terribly. Then her legs joined them. Teeth chattered, though the room was sweltering. Her limbs no longer obeyed her; she was as wobbly as a newborn foal, helpless in Vale’s hands. She croaked the only words she could manage before the tremors stole her ability to speak. “Help me.”

An arm behind her back and another under her knees. The bathroom door flung open, and she was transported through it. Her shaking turned violent, each involuntary movement more painful than the last.

She’d lost control. Truly and completely. Her whole body seized like it was rejecting her spirit, every twitch more painful than the last. This is it. This is the end.

When the sconces over the vanity switched on and the initial burst of light faded, Marian saw the font of shadows pouring from Vale against a backdrop of turquoise tile. His human guise blurred away, showing her the half-truth of him.

His guise had fallen. Vale was gone. Va’hael held her now.

He opened the shower door and slammed the faucet on; she’d never seen him move with such haste, and yet he still radiated ceaseless calm. In seconds, steam ballooned around her, but the tremors wouldn’t stop no matter how tightly he hugged her.

Fully dressed in shirtsleeves and waistcoat, he carried her into the shower and held her under the warm spray. Marian gasped at the feeling. Vale comforted her with gentle, senseless sounds. Her heart thudded so wildly in her chest, cardiac arrest seemed imminent.

“I’m-m dying.”

Vale ducked his head until his lips brushed her ears, shielding her face from the water.

“No, you’re not. I know it hurts, but it can’t kill you. Keep breathing.”

She wanted to. But the nightmare was so vivid, so raw, that even now it threatened to carry her away. She’d held onto a paper-thin conviction that they were dreams after all and not some curse put upon her by the Remnant.

All she could do was let Vale hold her through the shaking fits that went on and on and on. When the water finally ran cold, Vale turned it off and carried Marian to the vanity, where he set her on the edge and bundled her in the world’s softest towels. Swaddled in white, silent, and still shivering, he tucked her head under his chin and lowered them both to the floor.

“W-what’s happening to m-me?” Marian stammered.

“You’re having a functional seizure. Your body is processing what your mind cannot,” Vale explained calmly. “It’s panic, Marian. It will pass.”

She didn’t understand, but she didn’t need to. The scratch of damp wool against her cheek was suddenly mesmerizing. He was soaked to the bone, but didn’t appear bothered by it. The water hadn’t yet seeped through her towels, and even if it had, Marian wouldn’t have budged. She’d finally crested the peak of terror and felt herself slowly descending into relief.

She was sure she’d hated Vale. But she clutched his sopping shirt between bony, white-knuckled fingers like she had no intent to ever let go. He spoke in low whispers, never leaving her in silence for long. The words held no meaning for her, but the sound of his voice wove into her bones and chased the tremors away. Along with whatever animosity she had left.

She had no idea how long they sat there together. Vale’s shadows lapped at the floor, their undulations gentler now that she’d calmed some. When she looked up, blue on black eyes stared back at her. The crease of his pale, thin lips twisted in a frown.

“You saw the ixyura,”

She swallowed thickly as she held his eerie gaze.

At her mute nod, Vale’s frown deepened.

“This has happened before.”

Another statement, not a question. One that puzzled her. It must have shown on her face, because his frown vanished. Barely suppressed displeasure took its place—an expression that wouldn’t have suited his human guise, much less the fractured facade in front of her.

Then they were off the floor and back in the bedroom. The world outside her western window was dark, the lights of the city obscured by the hills beyond Vale’s compound. He set her on the edge of the bed and hovered for a moment. When Marian didn’t keel over, he stepped backward, his shadows folding around him like a shroud.