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But I can feel her eyes on us as we go, and before the door shuts behind us, I hear her muttered disapproval. “Wildblood whore.”
19
WILLOW
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
The pendulum swings beneath a familiar clock face, marking the ebbing of time with every breath I draw. Restlessness settles into my bones as I turn, only to find hourglasses tumbling through the landscape of my mind like weeds. Granules of sand drift away as if to signify the seconds of my life.
Careful, child.
A shiver runs through me as Elizabeth’s voice reverberates off the walls around me, a constant echo.
Careful.
“Why?” I ask. “What are you trying to tell me?”
There’s a long, agonizing pause where I wonder if she’s gone, if her spirit vanished before she could finish her warning, as it sometimes does. But then I hear her faint voice as if it’s carrying on the breeze.
Protect yourself. They will come for you. You must… keep close… the chosen one.
The urgency in her request sends a ripple of terror through me, and again I ask why, but I know it’s already too late.
She’s gone, disappeared into a void, a place I can’t follow her.
It doesn’t stop me from calling out for her as fear wraps its ugly claws around me. I don’t know what she means. I need more. I need something else to grasp onto, but there’s nothing. I’m alone in this room full of clocks, sand slipping away through hourglasses, and soon the light dissipates like an ominous warning, leaving me in total darkness.
“Elizabeth!” I scream for her, clawing my way through the black, only to hit wall after wall. “Come back, please!”
“Willow.”
A different voice splinters my consciousness, distorting everything around me. I spin around, searching for the source, but I can’t see him.
“Willow,” he says again.
There’s an edge of concern in that voice, and the familiarity blankets me like a warm caress. It gives me a sense of safety I shouldn’t feel.
“Azrael.” I open my eyes, stirring from a tormented sleep.
“You were having a nightmare.” His thumb brushes over my jaw, his eyes as haunted as I feel.
“Oh,” I croak.
“What was it about?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I lie. “It’s all jumbled.”
He frowns, and I know he isn’t buying it. But I can’t tell him that I’ve had these dreams every night for as long as I could remember. Strangely, they’ve been absent since I started sleeping in his bed. I had wondered why, but I guess it doesn’t matter since they’ve returned with a vengeance.
Elizabeth’s warning still lingers in my mind as I try to untangle my thoughts. What was she trying to tell me?
“Better now?” Azrael tucks me against his body, his arm sheltering me.
I don’t want to admit just how much better it is. His warmth. His strength. The enemy at my back who’s starting to feel more like a comfort with each day that passes. I know I shouldn’t give in, but exhaustion weighs heavy on me as I nod anyway.
I drift back to sleep in his arms, and when I wake again, I’m groggy and disoriented. A glance behind me confirms Azrael is already gone, and I wonder where he goes or how much sleep he actually gets.
I’ve been searching the house, but I haven’t found the entrance to the dark wing Bec mentioned. The only one I’ve discovered is sealed off, but I suspect there must be another one somewhere. I intend to find it, and perhaps when I do, I will uncover some of Azrael’s secrets and what he hides behind those walls.
I check my phone, shocked when I see that it’s already afternoon. I must have fallen into a deep sleep after my nightmare. I rarely ever sleep this long.
The sound of the bedroom door opening startles me, and when I turn to meet Azrael’s gaze, he seems on edge.
“You’re awake,” he observes.
“Yes,” I murmur. “I didn’t realize the time.”
A moment passes, and I wonder if he’s going to mention the nightmare.
Instead, he delivers some unexpected news. “You have visitors.”
His tone betrays his discomfort over the notion, and immediately, I perk up.
“My family is here?”
“Your sisters.” He nods. “They’re waiting for you in the sitting room.”
I can’t hide my relief. It hasn’t been long since I last saw them, but I’ve missed them so much.
Azrael watches me scoop Fiona up and dart to the connecting door to my room.
“Willow.” His voice halts me.
I turn to look at him, and he seems conflicted. I’m not sure if it’s because he’s aware that he now has five Wildblood witches under his roof or if it’s something else. But whatever the case may be, he seems to decide against sharing his thoughts.
“Don’t be too long,” he mutters, turning his back on me as he takes his leave.
I smile to myself, secretly amused by his discomfort, and go about my preparations for the day as quickly as I can manage. It takes me fifteen minutes to make myself presentable, and while I’d been trying to be respectful of the differences between our families before, all bets are off after Salomé made us attend church.
