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“I don’t know if we can,” I admit, heaving a sigh. She nods, my words disappointing her, but at least I’m not giving her false hope or lying. “There are things we’re going to need to talk about, facts we’re going to want to hear about the Guild, and I’m kind of expecting that to come from you.”
“If I know it, I’ll share.”
Eldon steps to my side. “The fourth year, from the party, is he—”
“A member of the Guild? Yes. However, now I can’t bear to show my face because he’s been talking about me and… being with me, to… everyone.” She winces, and my heart clenches for her.
Fuck. That’s shitty, I wouldn’t wish that upon anybody. Well, maybe Genie, but that’s different. My fists curl at my sides. I want to punch someone in the face, the fourth year to be exact, and the stark reality that I want to defend her so fiercely is a reminder that as much as this sucks right now, I still care for my friend.
“Are there any other notable members we should be aware of?” Creed asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
Leila sighsagain. “You know exactly who I’m going to say.”
My breath stutters as my pulse starts to ring in my ears.
“Say it,” Brax orders, and she offers me a soft smile as her eyes dip to the floor.
“Sebastian… and Genie.”
Fuck. My. Life.
NINETEEN
BRAX
Smoke billows around me in a vortex, my vision blurring as faceless men storm the room. Finn’s lifeless body is a heap at the door as they clamber over him without an ounce of care. My blade feels heavy in my hand as I try to wield it, but it’s impossible. I’m losing, they’re winning, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
I have to turn to stone if I have any hope of staving off their attack. Magic floods through my veins, starting at my toes before creeping up my spine, but the perfect shiver I get whenever I’ve completely transformed doesn’t come. Instead, an unwavering slice of pain consumes me.
My back burns, my smoke-filled vision fading to black in an instant, but there’s no reprieve for me. Blinking my eyes open, confusion grips me tight as the smoke disappears, the faceless men along with it, as the room morphs into another haunting sight.
Black marble flooring, carved stone walls, and the imposing gold table.
My attackers no longer come in the form of faceless men and my surroundings are no longer those of the Shadowmoor outpost. Instead, a flock of black-cloaked gold-masked motherfuckers swarm me in a circle that continues to get smaller and smaller. I can’t find my blade; the handle gone from my grasp. It’s only me and my fists now, but the uncertainty of shifting is overwhelming. The last time I transformed when in danger, I still wound up leaving myself vulnerable.
I can’t just turn my back this time.
Clenching my fists, my magic swirls down my arms, turning them to stone, but as the nearest member of the Nightmares Guild gets even closer, my body refuses to move.
“You’re helpless against us, you fool. You’re dead.” A cackle rings out, the lights diminishing as their gold masks begin to glow in the darkness.
I’m not dead. I’m fucking standing right here in front of you.
“I can hear your thoughts, you know. As adorable as it is that you think you’re alive just because you’re standing here, you’re going to need the reality check you deserve. This is the realm of the Shadows, Brax Carlsen. Get comfortable. You’re here for the rest of eternity.”
“No!”
I refuse. I refuse. I refuse.
My back burns, the pain of death taking its hold on me once again as the room’s blanketed in darkness. With a single blink, my surroundings shift before me; only this time, I’m familiar with where I am.
Home.
The pale-blue exterior glistens in the late evening sun. The sound of laughter echoes around me as I double-take on the people standing on the white wraparound porch.
“Mom? Dad?”
The words feel strange on my tongue, but the two sets of eyes that turn to greet me are not.
