Page 54 of Lost and Bound

Dressing quickly, I ride the buzz of a good shower and sort out my room, shifting my magikally disguised tea chests and making my bed. The desk and chair in one corner of the room are clearly new additions, but they work, and that’s all that matters.

I keep the ancient tomes, the gold bracelet, and the part of the arrow locked away for obvious reasons.

My stomach grumbles constantly, but I sip on water to fill the hole and focus on the latest run of assignments. I swear each subject is like learning a different foreign language every lesson.

There’s the bang of a door slamming, followed by a loud commotion. It’s full of laughter and camaraderie that breaks my concentration, feeding the isolation loneliness brings.

I can’t make out who just walked in by their voice alone, but I instinctively know it’s Emrys. How I know is as strange as my falling into the pages of an ancient tome and dragging back a raven. If I were asked to describe how I know, I’d talk about a vibration or a hum that tickle my veins while the purple threads in my shield pulse simultaneously.

I blink, as in my mind a carousel of memories appear. There’s not that many, but they’re poignant and all feature Emrys. There’s the time he first touched me at training, then when he saved me from falling in the greenhouse, and when he dropped me moments later. My memory bank includes his mocking words about me not having any protections, and his strange flirting that preceded his sudden mood change. Yet my memories also show how I looked during each interaction. It’s like watching a movie and reliving the emotion. The stubborn determination set in my eyes appears more than the haunted sadness, which is encouraging, and the vibrant purple energy that appeared after our first touch never goes away.

As if to reinforce its significance, the threads appear, wafting into my room from under the door. The electric purple strands swirl and dance in the air as they surround me. But then the moment they brush over me, they retreat to where they came from.

I’m left wondering how I’m ever going to learn enough of their world to know even the basics, for all I know, this stuff that’s blowing my mind is the norm. I tune out the noises floating down from upstairs and focus on finishing my essay on the modernization of spirit guides.

I surprise myself, smashing through the essay in no time at all. After editing and rereading it for a final time, I’m kind of impressed at how strong and substantiated my essay ended up being. But I don’t submit it yet, as I’ll do a final read-through in the morning, which is when it’s due.

Rising to grab a pair of socks and my quilt to wrap myself up in, I stretch a few times, clearing my head from the last topic and pepping myself up to tackle the assignment Elder Augustus set. Chemistry was never one of my strong subjects in my human school. At Thales, it’s made a hundred times more challenging because of my issues with anything to do with the study of vampires’ preferred nourishment, erythrocytes. There’s one good thing, though; the grumbling in my stomach stops when I open the task sheet.

Miraculously, the complex equations and hypotheses that have never made sense are easier to understand. My explanations flow without effort. Within a few hours, I’ve answered everything from Elder Augustus’s class, as well as finishing a chunk of the quiz that Duke Amon assigned on demon hieroglyphics.

It’s late, but not as late as I thought it would be when I shut down my computer. Though as I brush my teeth and use the bathroom, I realize how much colder it’s gotten.

The rest of the house is quiet, and the only light coming from upstairs must be from the moon. I race back to my room, wrap myself in a blanket burrito, and fall asleep without trying too hard.

CHAPTER TWENTY

WHEN ONE DOOR OPENS, ANOTHER SLAMS SHUT

I know I’m dreaming. My limbs are heavy, my thoughts float as I hover on the soft, dreamy edge of sleep. The temperature overnight plummeted, and I remember getting up at one point to grab another blanket. Now, though, I’m so toasty warm, all I want to do is snuggle deeper into my cozy bed and drift until my alarm goes off.

I roll onto my side, pressing against the warmth, as I drop straight into a dreamscape that’s eerily similar to the one where I unintentionally abducted Bugby. This time, though, there’s no battle in front of me; rather, it’s like I’m looking at the same fields years later. Instead of soldiers preparing for battle, a verdant sea of wildflowers paint color all the way to the horizon. The sun is high in an azure sky, and warmth kisses my face. A summer breeze blows strands of my hair across my face. I lift a hand and watch as my fingers comb through Nordic white strands.

Awareness trickles as soft fur brushes against my skin, but before I can twist around to check, I’m drawn back into the dream, instantly succumbing to an overload of welling happiness and deeply intimate sensations as a warm, wet snout presses firmly against the junction of my shoulder and the base of my neck. I crane back wanting and inviting more. A nip of sharp teeth against my throat evokes pleasure so true, I know the beast behind me is mine in every sense of the word. I chase the sensation we share, both physically and spiritually, as a voice—his—whispers and weaves through my thoughts. Not yet, Rakkaani.

I go to turn, but the feeling of him, our connection, and the surrounding landscape drain away like sand grains in an hourglass. A deep sense of loss engulfs me, and I wake with a start, sitting up. Tears track down my face as my thoughts desperately try to return to the dream, and I struggle to separate where I was from reality.

My room is dark to match my mood, but when I flick off my blankets to turn on the light, I’m frozen in place. Tentatively, I reach out to find the top of my bed is toasty warm. It’s the same warmth I found after our old cat at home spent the night sleeping next to me. Unlike the cat, who was small, whatever slept on my bed nearly took up the entire length of my body.

Something moves close by, and when I see my door is slightly open, my heart hammers so hard in my chest I feel like I’m having a heart attack.

Without thinking I fly out of bed, throwing myself against the door, and the sound of the door slamming echoes through the early morning. I search for the light switch, blinding myself when I flick it. My breathing sounds like I’ve run a marathon, and I crush my hand over my mouth, forcing myself not to make a sound and I leave it there as I search for signs.

I know something or someone was in my room, on my bed. The violation is too horrible to consider. I wonder if I simply had a bad nightmare, but that gets blown out of the water when I see the food under my desk.

Sinking to the floor, I shudder at the realization that someone was in here while I slept. I feel sick, my mind racing so fast that I miss when Bugby reappears, only noticing him when he’s standing on my foot. I yelp, and he starts his deep gargling, as if he’s saying, ‘I’m here’.

“Shit,” I whisper, rubbing my eyes and willing my pulse to stop mimicking arrhythmia. After a massive inhale, and an equally impressive exhale, the rushing between my ears fades.

I do it a few more times, and once I’m done, I can focus on trying to figure out what’s going on. First things first, how cold it is. I move so quickly that Bugby does a weird jump-flap-squawk, and I know I shouldn’t laugh, but I do.

“Sorry,” I whisper when he throws a very unimpressed glare my way. “Nervous energy.”

Shutting the windows, I then hop back into bed, rolling onto my side so I can watch the door. I’m not going back to sleep, but I need to chill the hell out if I’m going to survive the day. Though lying this way what I can see is limited, and when Bugby joins me on my bed and settles on my hip like a sentinel, my gaze keeps moving back to the food.

“If you were going to hurt someone, would you bring them food?”

Clearly, I don’t expect an answer, but I get one. The raven makes a series of clicks and soft caws, which sound a lot like attitude. Then he hops off me, landing on the floor right next to the food.