Feeling like this, while sharing a bed with a wicked, beautiful, dangerous man, was a recipe for disaster, and I knew it.
And I suspected—though I hoped I was wrong—that he knew it, too.
I edged along the foot of the bed. There was hardly any room to walk, and there definitely wasn’t enough room for one of us to sleep—or even sit—on the floor. But I also had no intention of standing all night, and I wanted to prove to myself that I was stronger than the sensual fantasies trying to push into my brain, so I went to the opposite side of the bed as Radven and tentatively sat on the edge of the mattress.
Radven, I’m sure, noticed how awkward I was being, but he thankfully chose not to comment on it. He’d pulled a knife out from somewhere under his clothes and was spinning it skillfully between his fingers as he stared up at the ceiling.
“When do you think they’ll get here?” I asked. “Your brothers.”
He glanced in my direction. “If all goes well, by midnight.”
“And if all doesn’t go well?” I hadn’t forgotten the huge burst of power we’d felt when we were fleeing from Laitha, and despite Radven’s urgings to trust them, the knot of worry in my stomach had never really disappeared.
Apparently his hadn’t left him, either, because he became serious again. “If they’re not here by dawn, then we keep moving.”
I couldn’t hide my shock. “Without them?”
“That’s the plan,” he replied, assuming an air of casualness again. “The meeting point changes every night for the next ten days.”
“And where would we go next?”
He cast another look in my direction. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”
Once again, he seemed determine to dodge my questions—not that it really mattered, I reminded myself. Any destination he named wouldn’t mean anything to me—this place was completely alien, and I didn’t belong here.
A knock on the door announced the arrival of our dinner—which turned out to be, no surprise, a couple of platters piled high with meat.
“Lamb,” Radven told me, passing a plate to me.
I set it in front of me on the bed, drawing my legs up to sit cross-legged on the mattress while I ate. It turned out that Theradorian lamb tasted exactly like the lamb back home. It was comforting—and I was starving—but at the same time, it felt strange to be sitting here stuffing my face when Alastor and Octavian were still potentially in trouble.
And while I was trapped in another world, with no idea if I’d ever get home again.
The lamb lost its flavor. Now that we’d stopped moving and settled down for the night, the full weight of the day’s events hit me like a brick. I was trapped here. In a world where I didn’t belong and where I was clearly in danger.
I never had the chance to tell Esmer and Isaac what was going on, I realized, remembering our last conversation and how I’d promised them I’d tell them before I made any big decisions regarding the brothers.They’ll never know why I just disappeared.
And then there were my parents, and my coworkers—I’d definitely be losing my job—and, oh god, all of my succulents were going to die without me there to water them.
And forwhat? A world that caused me constant pain unless I had a bunch of pearls strapped to my body?
It was hard to breathe. I stood up, stumbled my way around the bed to the single window, and fumbled with the shutter until I could push it open all the way. There was no glass in the window, and I gulped in the fresh night air, grateful for the crisp evening breeze.
“You all right, butterfly?”
Radven had come up behind me, and in this cramped little room that meant he was standing right against my back.
I couldn’t swallow down my panic.
“What am I doing here?” I asked without turning around to face him. “I shouldn’t evenbehere. How am I going to get home?”
Radven was silent for a short moment, then said, “Well, I suppose you’ll get home the same way you got here. If you were able to create a bridge from your world to ours by being descended from both worlds, it only makes sense that it would work in the opposite direction, too.”
Yes, that was what I’d assumed—hoped—would be the case. But I was still a little fuzzy about how I’d done it the first time around, aside from the part where I’d put myself in unbearable pain first.
I spun away from the window, pushing past Radven and dropping onto the edge of the mattress, where I drew my knee up to my chest so I could reach my ankle and the pearls tied against my skin.
Radven was immediately beside me, his hand coming down on top of mine, stopping me from undoing the knot.
