But I pry myself loose. “I have to wait for Laurel. It won’t be long now.”
Kal’s smile wilts. “Of course.” An awkward silence settles between us. “Alyce,” he attempts, and I know what he’s going to say. “Will you not reconsider? Come away with me. Leave the humans to their messes. You owe them nothing.”
I know he’s trying to protect me, but I won’t be swayed. “I love Aurora. I will help her.”
“Her life is so short. Will you rescue her so that she can grow old while you remain young? Are you content to watch the years whittle her away?”
The thought makes me itch. I know he’s right. But I cannot abandon Aurora simply because she is mortal. “I want all the time I can have with her—even if it’s not much.”
A current of wind slices through the gap in the wall, carrying the salt-stained promise of the storm. His onyx gaze gleams. “This is a fool’s game.”
“Kal.” I go to him, wishing that I could make him understand. “I am utterly grateful for what you’ve done. I would never have discovered the depth of my power without you. But—”
“Then come with me.” He grasps my elbows, and I swear I can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat through his palms. After the frost I’ve grown accustomed to, it’s unsettling. “Together we can go anywhere. Be anything.”
He wants this so much. I can almost smell his desire, like crushed nightshade berries—bittersweet and smoky. Part of me wants to give in. Kal deserves my loyalty. But so does Aurora. “No, Kal. I am staying.”
“In a realm that despises you? What do you think they will do, even if your precious princess survives?” His grip turns harsh. “Do you think they will welcome you with open arms? Put a crown on your head?” He bends close. “They will burn you. Tear you limb from limb. You will always be a monster. A mongrel.”
Instinct taking over, I grind my heel into his toe and shove him back. He stumbles. Anger builds in my chest, its hot coals stoked with each breath.
“It is no business of yours.” I rub the sore spots on my arms. “I trust Aurora. And I choose her. If you will not stand with us, then leave. But you will not speak to me that way. You will not hurt me.”
A slow, languid smile stretches over Kal’s face. A wave smashes into the base of the cliff, its spray like chips of ice. Warning bells clang through my mind.
“I had hoped you would come to me willingly. But I see you will not listen to reason.”
The roots of my hair stand on end. I know this feeling well.
Run.
Obeying that primal impulse, I bolt for the entrance of the tower. But I don’t manage two bounding leaps before a wall of shadow slams into me. I back away, dizzy and stunned. Are those the same shadows I’d just cleaved from Kal’s body? But they can’t be. Panic beats out a frenzied rhythm at my breastbone, sending me tripping over my feet.
“I just want you to listen.” Kal’s voice is too calm. “To hear me.”
Darkness undulates in every corner, writhing like snakes. Kal snaps his fingers and strips of shadow peel themselves free and cut through the air. My mind spins. Kal is controlling the shadows. But how?
I don’t stay to guess. Adrenaline thundering through me, I sprint up the stairs, scrambling for a plan. Kal’s even, measured footsteps thud behind me. There’s nowhere to go where he can’t follow. Dragon’s teeth, I don’t understand. Kal is my ally. My friend.
You don’t have friends, that awful voice seethes.
“I will not hurt you,” Kal calls.
The blood searing through my veins says otherwise. I throw myself into my room and bolt the door, but the wood is rotten and I know it won’t hold up beyond a few good kicks. Kal’s steps are nearing. I scan the chamber, terror sinking its claws deep into me.
A gull cries, jerking my attention to the window, where the spinning wheel waits. The spindle. Weapon, my mind registers.
But I don’t want to hurt Kal. He’s confused, as I had been. He needs time.
The sleeping curse.
The thought lands in my brain like a drop of water on parched earth.
Yes. I could curse him. Just for a little while. Long enough for me to settle things in Briar. When he wakes, he’ll see that Aurora isn’t like other humans. He’ll understand.
Wood pummels against wood and the hinges rattle. “Let me in, Alyce. I want to talk.”
As the next blow lands, I pry the spindle free of its moorings.
Sleep, I push through my mind, harnessing my intent. Not death. Only sleep.