Page 127 of By the Flames of Her Fury

As we whispered our observations and ideas, a spark lit inside my chest. A small glimmer of life that reminded me what it was like to hope. Swift was practically buzzing with anticipation. I wondered how long he’d been keeping it a secret.

“I like seeing you like this,” I said with a tired chuckle. We’d been talking for hours, and I wasn’t sure how I hadn’t passed out yet. I reached for the cold tray of food and water, then popped a raisin in my mouth, adding, “Taking charge is a good look on you. I mean, I imagine it is, if I could see you.”

“Whatever it takes to keep you talking, sweetheart. I can’t remember the last time I heard you laugh.”

My small smile faded. “I can’t believe you’ve been planning this for so long.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for months, trying to work my magic around the cuffs. Knowing there’s even a chance of holding you soon is the only thing keeping me going.”

I put my forehead to the wall. “Me, too.”

“Tomorrow night, after they bring you back from the lab, we’ll make sure Redbeard is on guard. That’ll be our first chance.”

A long exhale left me. “Are we really going to try this?”

“No, Songbird,” he said. “We’re not just going to try. This time tomorrow night, we’ll be together, I promise.”

My chest tightened, hope bubbling in my throat. I nodded and closed my eyes. “Tomorrow.”

59

Everett

Despite my anxiety, I fell asleep shortly after Vera, the feel of her back in my arms helping to settle the rising tide in my chest. But sleep didn’t last for long. The familiar tug of my magic pulled me further from unconsciousness. It was restless. Reaching. Searching. There were too many other minds in turmoil that called to my powers.

Eventually, I gave in.

It was like taking a step into nothingness. One second I was in my own mind, and the next, I walked through a veil until my feet landed in a new dream.

The brightness caught me off guard. Blue-gray sky, white snow, sun reflecting off layers of ice. Gray, snow-capped mountains in the distance. I recognized this—it was Drakorum. I glanced ahead to see a familiar figure trudging through the snow toward a log cabin, piles of chopped wood in her arms.

It was Tessa, but a younger version. Her hair was shorter, only a little past her shoulders, and framed her face in coils instead of the tight black braids I was used to seeing. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and used her shoulder to shove open the cabin door.

I shouldn’t be watching this. This was Tessa’s private dream, and she didn’t even know I was here. But my magic wouldn’t have pulled me in if she wasn’t in distress. Tessa shared very little of her past, always showing the headstrong, vivacious jaguar Shifter we knew and loved. I twisted my lips, trying to stave off my burning curiosity—but as the door nearly shut, my inquisitiveness won out. I bolted forward and slipped soundlessly inside.

We were in a single-room cabin, with a fire crackling low in a hearth on the side, a bed against the back wall, and a heap of blankets and pillows strewn on the ground next to it. I used my illusions to cloak myself in shadows as Tessa approached the bed.

“Not a lot of good wood today, Mama,” she said, setting the chopped wood down and tucking blankets tighter around the figure laying in the bed. “If I had balls, they’d be freezing off right about now.”

Silence. There was no response from the person in the bed, and when I shifted closer, I saw the spitting image of Tessa in thirty years. Dark coils streaked with silver rested on the pillow, and her eyes were glassy, staring straight up at the ceiling.

Tessa swiped at her nose again, and that’s when I realized she was crying. Quiet tears slipped down her cheeks. She squeezed her mother’s hand. “Please, Mama,” she whispered. “I miss you.”

Her mother’s neck slowly, slowly turned to face her, and I could’ve sworn her joints creaked at the motion. I was about to force myself out of the dream when suddenly, blood trickled from the edge of her mother’s mouth.

Horror stopped me in my tracks. It was as if an invisible hand was sewing her mother’s lips shut. Black string flossed its way over both lips, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. Tessa screamed and tried to jump back, but her mother gripped her hand and pulled her in.

“Mama!” she cried. “Mama, no!”

I reached for Tessa, but there was a tug on the magic in my chest, the only warning before I was yanked from the dream. I flew through a sea of darkness before my feet planted once more in someone’s subconscious.

I struggled to get the image of Tessa’s mother out of my head, barely registering the fact that the ground was moving. Stumbling to the side, a mixture of shouts, rain, and waves roared around me. I was on a ship. It was dark outside, with a storm battering the sides of the vessel fiercely enough to make me lose my balance.

Whose dream was this?

I looked around for a face I recognized and saw a man at the helm with a blond beard and tricorn hat: Captain Starke. He barked commands to the crew, and his men swarmed around me left and right. Grasping the rail, I staggered closer to Starke, curious to see why I was pulled into his mind.

His features were hard and focused. But then something caught his eye, and blood drained from his face. I followed his line of sight to find a man, woman, and two younger boys standing amidst the chaos of the deck. Wind whipped around them, making their hair and clothes fly in all directions, but they remained motionless.