Chapter 37
“Two hearts beat as one when the Goddess Netali blesses a union.
Her blessings are revered and rare.”
- The Old Book
Ifrantically tapped the arm of the chair I was sitting in. I had been sitting in deafening silence for nearly five minutes now, all the while Adina stared at me expectantly. I told her everything she wanted to know: Willam’s capture, my father’s suicide, and my mother’s subsequent mental decline. Yet here we still sat, face to face, locked in an unspoken battle of wills.
I had followed Rowan’s guidance: only tell half-truths and lead the conversation where I wanted it to go. The problem was that Adina knew I was hiding something. Probably through some sort of sixth sense she possessed. The woman was persistent to a fault.
“It’s been two months, and most of your peers have graduated out of their sessions. Why do you think you haven’t?”
“Because you think I have more to say,” I replied dryly. “Or perhaps you just really enjoy torture.”
Adina chuckled softly.
“Who is Kaven?”
“A childhood friend.” Not a lie, but not entirely the truth. Which is exactly why I felt a small buzz at the base of my skull.
“I don’t believe you, and neither does your body. You’ve mentioned him briefly, but never gone into detail. Why?”
“He’s not that important.” I flinched at the twinge of pain that radiated down my spine. I hated that gods-damned transmitter. I was so close to clawing my skin off until I successfully ripped it out.
“You know what I think?”
“I’m sure you’ll tell me,” I said with feigned sweetness, lilting my voice.
“I think he means a great deal to you. That somehow he ties into some of your deepest insecurities, andthatis why you won’t talk about him.”
I felt sweat gather on the back of my neck and slick my palms. She was going to force it out of me. The last piece of my life I had tried to keep to myself was going to be ripped from me against my will.
The buzzing at the base of my skull intensified, and I opened my mouth to tell her what she wanted to hear. To tell her how much of a coward I was, how everyone I loved left me. A tear streaked down my cheek, partly from the pain and partly from the intensity of the moment.
The timer rang out, and the pain faded. My gaping mouth let out an exasperated sigh of relief, and my body sank into the back of the chair. Adina’s left eye twitched several times before the mask of fake-calm plastered itself on her face once more.
“Well, that was rather anticlimactic. Maybe next session you’ll be more ready to talk.”
She stood from her chair and exited the room swiftly.
I didn’t move a muscle, too depleted of all energy to care that I couldn’t stand. I closed my eyes and practiced regulating my breathing. My pulse was still elevated, but I could feel the pressure that had built up within me dissipating.
I mindlessly walked down the corridor, watching one foot step past the other. The space in my head where my thoughts usually lived was empty. All the energy needed in formulating them had been drained. It was getting harder and harder to keep my walls up. Especially since the start of the transfusions, my body had gotten much weaker. Thus contributing to my wavering mental fortitude.
At first, I thought the treatments were working. I felt stronger, sharper. Like I was gaining muscle, even power. But that only lasted a few weeks. Now, it felt like I was losing everything I had built—and then some.
I stopped dead in my tracks when that warning chill crept up my spine.
They’re coming.
It was the voice again.
Turn around.
I stared at the reflective floor, at my distorted image peering back at me. I repeated to myself that the voice wasn’t real, over and over. Because if it was, what did that mean?
Keeping eye contact with myself, I continued. Once I rounded the corner, I stopped once more. Laughter—maniacal and heady—echoed down the corridor. My eyes squeezed shut upon recognition.
