Right now, I didn’t care. Let them come. Let them see me broken and sobbing. What did it matter anymore?
The footsteps stopped.
I took a shuddering breath and lifted my head, waiting for whoever it was to appear.
Nothing.
No one emerged from the shadows.
I looked wildly around the dungeon, my eyes straining in the dim torchlight. The cells. The corners. The darkness pooling between the stones.
Nothing moved.
But I’d heard those footsteps. I knew I’d heard them.
“Hello?” My voice cracked. Pathetic. Weak.
Silence answered.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Something was here. Something I couldn’t see.
My heart pounded so hard I thought it would wake Flint and Steel. Wake Bunny and her children.
Was Ari back, playing games? Or was this something worse?
I held my breath, listening.
And then—so soft I almost missed it—I heard breathing. Close. Too close.
Right beside me.
I pulled on my chains, but I was powerless. My arms were stretched high over my head.
Nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide.
Vulnerable. Again.
A pair of golden eyes floated next to me, then Chester materialized out of the darkness. His grin was softer than usual. Almost sad.
“Alice. The girl with the power to stop time.”
I sagged against the chains. “Chester, what are you doing?”
“Tell me, Alice. When a man stands in the fire, does he burn for himself or for another?”
Weariness and sadness erased all the anger I had. I was tired. Bone-deep tired. The kind of exhaustion that seeps into your soul.
Most people in my position would have wanted to go home. Back to safety. Back to the familiar.
But I didn’t have a home. Never really had. Earth wasn’t home. The coven had made that clear. And now the Elder Dimension—the one place I’d started to feel like I belonged—had shattered around me too.
I was a girl without a home. Without a family. Without the man I thought had loved me.
“I don’t understand, Chester.” Everything inside me had gone cold. Numb. “I saw him kiss her. I heard what he said. He’s totally mad.”
Chester vanished, then reappeared on my other side. “What looks like madness but tastes like sacrifice? What sounds like rejection but feels like protection?”
I shook my head, exhaustion and grief dragging at me. “Speak plainly, Chester. I’m not in the mood for riddles.”
