Page 46 of Hallowed Bones

No. I close my eyes. Flames all around me. Walls caving in, ash in my mouth, in my hair.

Run, Haven. You have to run.

No. My eyelids shoot back open as a warm arm bands around my waist and pulls me back. The creature is there. It’s right in front of me with its dozens of mouths and sharp teeth smiling and grinning. It unhinges its jaw, opening it wide as two tongues flick out, tasting the air, tasting my fear. Then I remember the arm around my waist, and I look up.

Ezra’s face is a mask of cold antipathy. His chest radiates heat against my spine, and his broad body feels like it’s meant to be a barrier to my own. He smells good—a mix of something dark and spicy, addictive. My eyes catch the line of his other arm—the one not binding me to him—and I follow it to see that he’s got the creature’s forehead in his palm.

He’s holding it at bay. My jaw drops in shock.

One of the tongues slithers out and touches my cheek, and I flinch, shoving myself backward and more firmly into his hold. The arm wrapped around my waist squeezes back, almost as if he’s silently reassuring me that he’s there. It’s the first time that I’ve not been alone when one of the creatures came for me. I didn’t think anyone could see it, but Ezra … My eyes shift from him to the creature and to the hand he has planted on the monster’s skull. He can more than see it. He can touch it.

Just like I can.

“We need to run.” Even if I wanted to speak normally, I can barely inhale enough oxygen as it is, so my words come out in a raspy whisper.

Ezra doesn’t look at me. He doesn’t even acknowledge that I’ve spoken. His eyes are fixed on the terrifying creature of nightmares.

“Ezra!” I hiss his name, clutching onto his shirt and trying to get him to back away. He doesn’t so much as budge.

Instead, he tips his head down and finally meets my gaze. His eyes are a blue so dark they remind me of a midnight ocean. They reflect no light. Looking into them is like staring into something ancient.

They’re beautiful in the way a graveyard is beautiful at night—silent, reverent, filled with the echo of things old and painful. There’s no mercy in them. No warmth. Just cold, endless depth and the quiet promise of ruin.

Instinct has my thighs clenching together as a different kind of warmth blooms lower in my belly. My breasts ache with a sudden odd soreness. Hunger rises from the depths of my core—a desire I’ve long since started to ignore in favor of survival. My breaths come faster, gasping from my lungs. His scent invades, heady and confusing. Ezra is an asshole. He’s dangerous. He’s … protecting me?

When he opens his mouth and speaks, the world goes silent.

The pulse of life beneath the ground? Quiet.

The flutter of wind through the trees? Gone.

Everything stops. As if time itself has paused to take heed of his words.

By the light of flame, I now claim.

Intuition and insight, guide my sight.

Enhance the night.

Lunar energy,

I call to thee.

Reveal the truths for all to see.

A thousand screams erupt, startling me back to reality. White light bursts to life, and Ezra quickly flips me around, pushing my face against his chest as his hand settles against my back. White and black dots dance in front of my vision, stealing my ability to think or see. I gasp and move to turn, sure the monster is attacking, but Ezra’s hand shifts up to the back of my head, keeping me in place.

“No.” One word. Deep. Rich. Commanding.

My heartbeat thuds a rapid tempo against my rib cage. I drag in lungfuls of air as he continues to cup the back of my skull, and I realize that he’s no longer just holding me with one arm but both. He’s not touching the creature anymore.

The scent of dark spice and citrus heightens all around us. My limbs ease their rigid stance, and I begin to relax. Not all at once but slowly, in increments. Time doesn’t pass. It warps—fractures—splinters into nothing. And when my eyes finally flutter open, it’s to the low rumble of a heartbeat beneath my ear and the slow, hypnotic drag of fingers tracing the line of my spine.

When did I close my eyes again? And what is that sound?

Ezra’s arms are wrapped around me like a protective barrier. I can’t tell if I’m being held or restrained. That choking, gasping noise grows louder, hurting my ears.

“Take a breath,” Ezra urges. His voice is even, not a hint of anger or fear in it. “It’s all right. You’re okay.”