Pushing through the dark energy, I hurry forward, hoping that a light beam will appear. As much as I can’t trust any light beam in this prison to take me where I need to go, I don’t have a chance of finding my sisters without one. In the back of my mind, I’m anxious that the next trial is tonight, and I can’t miss it, but right now, my sisters’ safety is my only priority.
My wolf and demon energies mingle to allow me to see in the dark environment, aiding me in a way that I wish I’d always used. Fighting on the shadowy streets of Vegas could have been so much easier if I’d embraced all the parts of my energy. It’s too late to regret my choices now—I did the best that I could with the information I had at the time—but if I survive the Elimination, I won’t restrict my powers like that again.
The room grows darker as we move farther along the rectangular space, and I’m starting to worry we’re heading toward a dead end when a light beam finally comes into view.
It sits right in the far corner. Or at least, it looks like a corner until we’re close enough to see that this entire space is an optical illusion, and that the light beam leads into the rest of the building through a space that’s only visible when I’m all but standing in it.
“Okay,” I say to my wolves. “We have no choice but to get on this and hope that it takes us to our pack.”
My wolves leap on at the same time as I do, crowding around me.
Unlike every other beam I’ve stepped on, this one doesn’t move.
I stare at it. Hard.
Is it another illusion?
I rub my forehead, frustration rising inside me, curling my fingers into fists to focus my energy and tipping my head back to blow out my exhale.
“Please. I need to see my sisters,” I say, speaking aloud to the shiny walls, as if my plea will make any difference, but the prison holds the power here and if it’s somehow sentient, then maybe it will understand me.
My eyes fly wide when the beam buzzes and starts to move.
“Hold on,” I say softly to my wolves.
The beam is slower than usual, almost as if it doesn’t want to throw us off-balance, and we only go around two bends, down a small incline, and then straight through a wall—a fake wall, thankfully, but no lie, I close my eyes—before it grinds to a halt.
It leaves us facing the only visible door in this section, and it’s not the door of the room I left my sisters in.
The wooden paneling is twice as wide and a brilliant blue, standing out from the silvery walls.
It doesn’t open and the light beam doesn’t go any farther.
“I need to see my sisters,” I say out loud, more bite in my voice. “Malia and Taniya. Wolf shifter hybrids. Please, let me see them.”
I haven’t stepped off the beam because I don’t have time to fuck around with blue doors that are probably gatekeeping a nightmare demon creature. Though a nightmare doesn’t bother me the same way it used to.
Despite my request, the light beam remains stationary, and with reluctance, I step onto the silver path in front of the door.
Reaching out, I press my hand to it, feeling for any energy within it. I doubt the prison will reveal more than it wants to, but at least I can try to gather information before attempting to break this door down.
The wooden paneling is cool against my palm, and I have a flash of déjà vu as I’m reminded of what happened outside with Roman. Beneath my touch, though, there’s no energy. No biting jolt or electricity. If anything, it feels like ordinary wood. An ordinary door like the ones on Centrum.
Whatever’s happening behind this door, it’s being well hidden from me and my demon sight. If my father’s energy has some connection to the power in these walls, I’m getting no sense of it.
Just when I’m about to give up and step back onto the light beam again, a low, whirring sound fills the air around me.
The door slides into the wall cavity, disappearing as if it had never been there.
“Nova! You’re here!”
Malia’s warm, brown eyes glisten as her arms fly around me.
“Malia!” I’m frozen for only a second before I crash into her hug. Her familiar scent hits me—warm, cookies-from-the-oven with a touch of herby magic mixed in—and tears of relief burn in my tightly-closed eyes, soaking into my sister’s shoulder, where my head is buried.
“You’re okay,” I breathe before I pull back, rapidly checking her over.
She looks well. Happy. Her cheeks are glowing, she’s smiling, and she’s dressed in comfortable clothing, her posture completely relaxed.
