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When I look down, there are foreign symbols etched into the table. Triangles with lines, oblong circles, and other shapes I’ve never seen before.
“How did you get here?” Beatrix asks, fixing her eyes on me. “I assume it happened quickly—a suction in and then a sudden drop?”
“Yes,” I say. “It was exactly like that.”
“And, let me guess.Thisdark soul found you.” She jerks a thumb at Caz, who flares his nostrils. I get the sense he hates being talked about like he’s not in the room.
“His wolf found me first, actually.”
Beatrix smirks, and Caz’s jaw ticks. Then his eyes swing to the right, dropping to the floor, and he tenses in his chair. I frown and lean over a bit to see what he’s looking at. At first, I don’t see anything, not until it moves. A spider—but it’s unlike the spiders where I’m from. This one is big, black, and hairy—like a miniature tarantula.
Beatrix looks at the ground with him and continues a smirk as Caz slides his chair to the left.
What?Is he afraid of the spider?
“Worry not,” Beatrix says, grabbing an empty jar from the shelf near her. She removes the lid, scoops up the spider, gives the jar a light shake, then replaces the lid. Once the lid is secured, she places the spider on the table right next to Caz, and I watch as Caz draws in a deep breath before putting his focus ahead again. “Those spiders can be pesky. They love my home. Sometimes I feed them. That one’s named Ori. Or maybe Ori is in the kitchen and this one is Hurn. Hmm. I’m not sure.”
Caz’s jaw pulses. “Can we get on with this, please?” he demands.
“Of course. Lend me your hand. You as well.” Beatrix extends both arms in opposite directions so Caz and I can take them.
Caz frowns at her hand before carrying his gaze up to hers. “Is there another way this can be done?”
“Touch,” Beatrix says, smiling at him. “You hate it, you poor thing. You have no idea what you’re missing out on by covering yourself up so heavily.” She sighs, as if bored with him. “Don’t worry. You’re from my world. I don’t exactly need totouchyou to see what will come.” She looks at me. “But I do needyourhand.” I place mine in hers, and she wraps her dark, nimble fingers around it before closing her eyes.
As she does, the room darkens, a heavy shadow hovering above us, and I refrain from gasping as the lights flicker. Some of the symbols on the table illuminate in a striking neon purple, each one coming alive as Beatrix inhales then exhales with her eyes still shut.
I glance at Caz, who keeps his eyes fixed on Beatrix, then switch my sight to Alora who is watching it all, fascinated. Beatrix grips my hand tighter, hers becoming cold like ice until finally, the glowing symbols turn back to normal, the lights stop flickering, and she opens her eyes, exhaling again.
She turns her gaze to mine, not blinking, then she turns to Caz. “She must be gone within the next week.”
“How do I get her back?” he asks without hesitation.
Beatrix pushes out of her chair and marches through her tiny home. My eyes follow where she goes, and she stops in front of a tall bookcase, snatching a book from the third row, and returning to the table. She drops the thick book and flips it open, fingering through the pages.
“You were right, Alora. They share a Cold Tether.”
Alora nods, as if she knew it all along.
“It’s been so long since I’ve encounteredthiskind of Tether though,” Beatrix goes on, a dip forming between her brows. “What you two have is powerful. I—I haven’t seen this kind of Tether in so long. The kind pulled from two universes. “You can hear his thoughts.” Beatrix is still flipping through the pages. “And the longer you’re around him, you’ll eventually begin to feel his pain. And he will feel yours.Here.” Beatrix lands on the page she’s been looking for and places a finger on it. “The Cold Tether,” she says. “The Cold Tether is so powerful, so extreme, that within only a few days, things can become fatal for both of you. The more you two are together, the more dangerous it will become for you to be around one another.”
“How?” asks Caz.
“Yeah, how?” Because last night, Alora made it seem like a Cold Tether was a beautiful thing. Now this Beatrix woman is telling me it’s a fatality?
“There is a Vakeeli being who hunts for Cold Tether mates and harnesses their energy because it’s pure and still has the power of the Regals. It wants to keep it for itself, use it for to grow stronger. And it has, with time.” Beatrix flips the page, and a chill runs down my spine when she reveals an image of something I’ve seen before—something from my nightmares.
It’s a figure in all black, wearing a hood. It’s sketched on the page in what looks like charcoal, so the image is smeared, but the crescent eyes are as red as blood. It’s similar to the grim reaper, but deadlier, scarier.
“They call it Mournwrath. It isn’t defined by gender, and according to legends, it does not have a face, yet it can turn into anyone it wants to get what it needs. It has hunted the Cold Tethered since they were created by the Regal, Selah. It was over a century ago that I last encountered a couple with a bond like yours. Two days later, they were found dead. Their bodies werepale, their faces sunken in, as if all the life had been drained out of them, and their skin was cold. Colder than the ice of Luxor.”
I work hard to swallow. I don’t know what Luxor is, but the way she describes it sounds serious.
“That sounds like the couple from Vanora,” Alora murmurs, her face ashen. “No one could explain their deaths.”
“Yes,” Beatrix goes on. “I warned that couple; I knew that if they stayed together, they’d probably not see the next week—that Mournwrath would look for them, absorb their Tether, feed off of them like a leach, until they were no more. They didn’t listen.” Beatrix looks between us. “I get the sense you two don’t very much care for each other, so the sooner you separate, the better.”
“Okay, but how do I get back home, to my world?”
