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“I knew the person responsible had to be someone dedicated to helping Halflings. Regardless of the risk,” Riven said without looking at me. “When you showed me that pendant in the village, I knew it was you. Who else could’ve done it? Who elsewould’vedone it?” His eyes cut to me. All the anger they usually held for me was gone. Their violet hue was soft, welcoming even. Riven’s brow crinkled as he traced the lines of my face, like he was seeing me for the first time.
“I should’ve realized sooner that it was you. I let my own assumptions cloud my judgment,” Riven finished. It was as close to an apology as I was going to get.
He reached out and patted my knee. I felt that same shock of something between us that ignited each time we touched. It shivered through my skin and into my blood. Riven pulled his hand back, turning it over to study his fingers. Whatever it was that kept happening between us, Riven didn’t understand it either.
The scene was just like the afternoon attack. Their carriage. Two horses standing next to where their riders had fallen with my blades in their throats. One of their boots still hung from a stirrup. The bodies Riven and I killed still lay where they fell, but Riven was nowhere to be found. Nor Syrra or Nikolai.
They were just gone.
Gareth stood in front of me, hands raised. I felt my hand moving toward my dagger, readying for the kill. I would have to do it again. I always had to do it again. The killing never ended.
But then it wasn’t Gareth standing there at all.
It was her.
Blond hair set in soft waves fluttered in a breeze I couldn’t feel. The sun radiated off her, bright as the smile she was giving me. Warm and wide, framed by rosy lips the same color her cheeks blushed when I looked at her.
I smiled back, reaching my hand out to touch her. Just once. Just one more time.
She stopped smiling. Now tears streamed down her cheeks, and the suns were covered by thick, gray clouds. Her honey-colored eyes swam in a pool of tears that flowed down her face.
“You promised,” she whispered, reaching out to me.
You promised.
You promised.
You promised.
No. I would not do this again. Why did she keep coming for me? Keep making me relive it over and over?
“Don’t make me do this,” I pleaded.
“You promised,” she sobbed, and fell to her knees.
“I never promised this,” I told her, as I had so many times before.
I walked over to her without wanting to. My body was not my own. It was powered by the will of my dream. Of my memory.
She looked up at me. Heartbreaking and beautiful.
“You promised, Keera,” she whispered.
I ran my dagger through her heart. It was the only thing I could do to silence her.
I woke on the dirt, dim light cast over my face from the dying fire. Someone’s arms were wrapped around me. They were whispering something in my ear.
“It’s okay. You’re okay.” It was Riven. His voice was softer than I’d ever heard it. His hand stroked my hair as he whispered more calming words.
I relaxed into him, too exhausted from the dream to care what he thought of it or how close his hands were to the scars on my back. Adrenaline coursed through me, leaving my breaths ragged as I tried to remember none of it was real. It wasn’t real.
Riven pulled his head back to look at me, holding my cheek in the palm of his hand. “You were scaring the horses,” he murmured.
“I didn’t mean to,” I answered dumbly. “Usually, they’re not that bad. The dreams.”
His fingers stiffened against my cheek. I expected to see anger in his eyes, but his stare was soft. His full lips frowned as his jaw flexed. Concern. My breath caught. It had been so long since someone had cared enough to worry about my nightmares.
“It’s okay,” Riven whispered, his lips brushing against my ear. He rubbed his thumb across my cheek and then stopped as if realizing he’d done it. He dropped his hand from my face, but I could still feel his warmth beside me.
