I surveyed the shelves. They weren’t completely flush against the wall. One side jutted out slightly, drawing my attention.
I squinted into the gap.
“Those jewels better be big,” I muttered. “Because I’ve found it.”
Lorian’s hard body was caging mine before I finished my sentence. I went still, but he merely shifted me aside, then leaned against the shelves. Blood dripped from my nose, and I wiped at it. Panic returned with a vengeance. If my power slipped in front of a guard, we were both dead.
“I’m almost out.”
He sent me an unconcerned look. “No, you’re not. Work harder.”
He was facing the wall. I could pick up that decorative knife and stab him straight in the back.
“An attack from behind isn’t your style, wildcat,” Lorian murmured, still pushing the shelves aside.
“You know nothing about me.”
He just snorted at that, stepping back to survey the door. With a glance at me, he tore the bottom of his shirt, handing the material to me. “Let’s go.”
“If someone walks into this room, they’ll know we’re in here.” I could picture it. The guards drawing their weapons and either killing us immediately or hauling us down to the dungeon. They’d torture us down there. They’d need to know just how we’d gotten this close to the king. Iron would be shoved into my body, and they’d likely execute me the next day—just like Wila.
“Then you better ensure no one walks in here.”
Bastard. Smug, glib bastard.
He was already grabbing my hand and pulling me after him. “I can wait here,” I insisted, pressing his shirt to my nose to stanch the bleeding. Now I was breathing in his wild scent. For some inexplicable reason, my heart rate slowed and I could take a full breath. I scowled.
“I don’t think so,” he said.
Grinding my teeth, I stepped into the space. The stone was clean and dry, although the air smelled stale.
It wasn’t a room. Lorian was walking down a set of stairs. The walls were so narrow, if I held out my arms, I couldn’t straighten them. My breath came faster. The walls seemed to press in on me, the roof inches from my head. My power slipped, and I caught it once more, a metallic taste flooding my mouth.
“I’m not doing this.”
“Oh yes, you are.”
“I, uh, don’t do well in small spaces.”
“It will be over soon.”
“Did no one ever teach you empathy?”
He chuckled. “Empathy is useless in this world. Besides, my empathy won’t make you strong.”
Was that why he was like this with me? Because he wanted to make me strong?
My heart was already galloping in my chest. I stumbled on a step, hitting Lorian in the back, and he sent me an exasperated look over his shoulder.
“Almost there.”
He was right. The stairs expanded, and so did my lungs as I could finally take a full breath. We were in a tunnel. Torches were positioned every few foot-spans, and while it was still far too narrow, I focused on holding time. This was much longer than I’d ever attempted to hold it, and blood dripped freely from my nose. The scrap of Lorian’s shirt was soaked.
“Ah,” he murmured, satisfaction dripping from his voice.
The tunnel ended. I looked up. And up.
The stairs suddenly made sense. The cavern was expansive, the ceiling so high it loomed above our heads.
Marble pillars stood several foot-spans apart, encircling the room like silent sentries. But my gaze snagged on the middle of the huge space, where an altar was surrounded by tall, unlit candles.
And on the altar? Basket after basket of oceartus stones. Not one of them was glowing. Empty.
Lorian prowled across the cavern, headed for a collection of wooden chests.
I gazed around the cavern. Surrounding the pillars, walls of bookshelves were stuffed with thousands of books. I wandered closer, intrigued despite myself.
Hunting the Fae. The Human’s Guide to Fae Magic. The Fae Wars. Gods: A Complete History.
My fingers tingled at the thought of having access to these books. Oh, the things I could learn. Maybe I’d discover some way out for us hybrids. Perhaps one day, I could even have that future I’d always dreamed of.
A quiet life. A life without killing.
Small dots appeared in front of my eyes. Pain erupted inside me, as if I were being ripped in two.
The world had gone white, and then the white turned dark once more. My grip on the thread of my power was slipping, slipping…
I dropped the thread and leaned over, almost vomiting.