Page 96 of Hallowed Bones

He tips his head back and looks too.

Suddenly, a horrible sense of foreboding invades this beautiful place. The vibrancy of the moss fades; the flowers wither. The lightness that had filled me evaporates as if it was never there.

We shouldn’t be here. Nothing should be here. It’s not a fact but a knowing that rises deep within my core. Maybe we walked into the forest, but now … we’re not there anymore. We’re somewhere else. Somewhere that we shouldn’t be.

The Veil.

Each breath I take fogs against my lips, hovering just there in front of my face before disappearing. When I stop, though, the sound doesn’t cease. Someone else is breathing too—something else. The trees?

“Cameron?” There’s no hiding the fear in my voice as I move toward him. His hands come up, cupping my biceps as he pulls me into the length of his body.

“Shhhh.” He hushes me quietly, scanning the area.

I look up. Branches twist like skeletal fingers above our heads, grasping at the sky. I look down. The roots of nearby trees writhe against the earth like snakes crawling over dirt and dead leaves. The moss has been completely eaten away.

“Cameron!” The shocked gasp and half-choked scream echo up the trunks before I can stop them. His short nails bite into my skin as he jerks me back and away from the roots.

“Fuck.” The curse hisses from him a second before he spins me and reaches a hand out. “Abi sis. Evanescet.” The unknown words come sharp and fast, and as soon as they leave his lips, the roots catch fire and wither into nothing.

I drag in lungfuls of air, gasping as my throat squeezes and the walls of my esophagus close in on themselves. “Hey, hey, no,” Cameron says, turning me to face him once more. “It’s all right,” he says. “You’re all right. Look at me.”

His voice sounds muffled as my fear skyrockets, sending my heartbeat thudding in my ear into a rapid tempo. My eyes burn with unshed tears. Cameron wraps his arms around me and urges me to lean into his chest. I offer no refusal, but take the comfort he’s offering like food to a starving animal.

Nuzzling my face against the softness of his T-shirt-covered chest, I grasp at his hips and try to take each breath slow and easy. They continue to stick in my throat, being forced to squeeze down into my lungs so that I don’t pass out.

“What’s going on?” My words are barely above a whisper, strained as they are.

It takes a long moment for him to respond, but when he does, it’s not with a pleasant answer. “I don’t know,” he confesses, gently pressing my head down so that I don’t move away from him automatically. “But you’re not alone. I’m here, sweetheart. You’re not alone.”

I’m not entirely sure if he repeats that last bit more for himself or for me. After several beats of silence, he finally eases his hold on me enough that I’m able to slip from his firm grasp and look around.

“We can’t stay here,” I say. “We need to keep moving.”

Cameron is quiet as he looks first at me and then back to the woods. “The trees are moving,” he says. “It’s the witching hour.”

“What does that mean?” It can’t be the witching hour. It’s too early for that … isn’t it?

Cameron’s eyes are on me once more. The hazel and topaz flecks of his irises swirling with murky depths. “You’re not dreaming this time, Haven,” he says.

More ice, like cool water, drips down my spine. “What does that mean, Cameron?” I repeat the question.

Before he can answer, the air currents around us shift. The roots are alive again. Dead leaves crinkling under movement in the underbrush. Fear and panic claw at my insides, trying to pull me down. Each breath that escapes my lungs burns. The muscles in my legs beg for freedom, for me to run.

Cameron’s glasses glint with the light of the moon as the clouds above our heads shift and the reflection of something horrid peers back at me in the mirror image. I freeze.

It’s behind me. Cameron sees it, and yet his face doesn’t change. I can’t tell if he’s trying to stay calm for me or if he truly doesn’t fear the monster that I see. I don’t dare look back.

It’s not a ghost, not a specter, but something far deadlier. The closer it comes, the more I can sense the heavy weight of its presence.

“Haven.” I hear Cameron’s voice, but it’s far away, as if he’s far away. My entire focus, my entire being is centered on the creature slowly creeping closer.

I can hear it—the thing that shouldn’t exist. It’s not just grief but something made of sorrow, of all the pain no one ever faced. Pain racks my body. My vision blurs, and Cameron’s image in front of me begins to go transparent around the edges. I blink, but the fading grows worse. I open my mouth to call out for him, but no words come.

Slowly but surely, he disappears—vanishing from my sight until I’m left alone with the creature in the woods that shouldn’t exist but does.

I don’t think. I don’t plan. I just run.

The tears break free as I do, cascading down my cheeks as the cold wind of the night air slaps at my face. The creature follows.