Page 9 of The Seeker

My head moved back and forth. “I won’t survive here much longer, Otho.”

“You have to,” he pleaded. “My plan needs a little more time.”

I frowned but begrudgingly looked at Dream Otho once more. “But Friar says she also has a plan?”

I didn’t miss the surprise that flickered across his features, and I wondered if my empathy magic also worked in this non-dream dream. “I’m sure our plans will align.”

It was a lie. I could tell by the way Otho’s chin twitched. He’d had no information on Friar’s plan. I wanted to confront him, but I still wasn’t sure what exactly this was. Maybe I was so heartbroken that this was nothing more than a hallucination. Maybe I had a fever. I was confused. I missed Otho so much, but this . . . dream . . . didn’t comfort me in the way it should have.

“I miss you, Runa,” Otho whispered. “Please look at me.”

I hadn’t realized that I’d closed my eyes. I opened them to see his gaze also shining with tears.

“I will come for you as soon as I can, I promise.” He’d barely finished saying the words before he faded from view, leaving me in the unnatural dream woods by myself.

I knew I should feel relief that Otho was coming for me. I knew I should be ecstatic that I had actually seen him after fortnights of nothing.

But I couldn’t accept the fact that he hadn’t come to rescue me already.

Which meant I needed to continue my plan to rescue myself.

CHAPTER 4

Iawoke the next morning to Leif rubbing his hand up and down my arm. Although I hated the way he kept me a prisoner in his keep, I couldn’t deny the way his touch awoke every nerve ending in my body. As much as I yearned to hate him, I also ached for any kind of touch, regardless of its origin. It was a difficult and complicated emotion to come to terms with.

He kissed a trail up my neck. “Good morning, my heart. How did you sleep?”

The air in my lungs froze at his question, and his kisses stopped at my unnatural reaction. “Okay, I suppose,” I forced out, my voice still gravely with sleep.

He leaned in, breathing me in. “As much as I would love to continue this, I’ve got an early meeting. But we will pick this up later.”

He rose from the bed, pulling on his breeches.

“What meeting?” I inquired, realizing suddenly how little I knew about what Leif did all day. I’d been so consumed, wallowing in my own unhappiness and depression, that I’d paid very little attention to everything around me the past three fortnights. As I came to that realization, it was like taking a breath after being underwater for so long. Although my heart still ached, and I was still sad about everything I’d lost, I knew it was time to move forward.

I was Runa Wormwald, a woman who survived the Purge, being discarded by her brother, and bonded to a man by force. I was constantly underestimated—tossed aside—to the detriment of those around me. I could escape one misguided man.

I would escape one misguided man.

I would live the life I deserved.

“With General Ryle.” Leif’s gaze was focused on the mirror as he fastened the gold buttons on his coat. He’d taken to wearing the same style his father once clothed himself in, something that drew a shudder from me.

I rose from the bed, pulling a robe over my nightgown. The plans I had today did not involve a dress. I feigned interest, desperate to glean as much information as possible. “Are things better at the frontlines?”

Leif shook his head before turning toward me, placing a peck on my forehead before walking to the door. “Nothing for you to worry about, my heart. You just rest, okay?”

I nodded, waiting until the door snicked shut behind him to jump into action.

First, I dug through Leif’s closet for a pair of breeches, relishing in the way they felt as I yanked them up my legs. While I loved having the opportunity to wear dresses, I’d been raised in pants, and nothing would ever feel more right on my body. I laced them up, the waist bunching as I pulled the laces as tight as they would go. Though I wasn’t too much shorter than Leif, I’d lost a little weight, but the breeches would have to do.

Digging into the back of his closet, I found a loose long-sleeved white shirt, slipping it on before admiring myself in the mirror. Despite the weight loss, something was still off.

I reached back into the closet before deciding it was better to destroy one of my dresses instead of one of Leif’s shirts.

It didn’t take me long to rip the garment into a piece long enough to bind my breasts.

It was now the breeding season in Heimland, almost half a year since I’d dressed this way, but when I looked in the mirror, a sense of calm washed over me. I felt safe.