“Valeria. Jesus, I told you to stay the hell out of the west wing.”
Outside of the door, I was closed off from the shadows that had nearly consumed me. Their touch still danced on my skin, invading every inch.
I was in Silas’s arms.
Outside the door.
I was outside of that door and in Silas’s arms—more importantly, intact and not shredded into flesh and blood.
“What was that?” I croaked, fingers at my throat rubbing in soft strokes, fingers that should’ve been mine but were not.
Wrestling out of his arms, I crawled across the floor, staggering to my feet. Leaning against the wall,I breathed in a shaky, ragged gasp. Skin raw from the fire of a dying ember, digging my nails into bare arms.
I needed to know I was here—I was in my body and not hers.
I was not her.
The images died, and the cool walls of the castle anchored the chilling fire burning deep inside. I trembled at the faint lines of the shadows tracing my skin, etching their being into my soul. Their whispers caressed my ears, and I could still hear them, though their words were trapped behind a closed door.
We can show you the truth.
“They are the children of darkness, the collector of humanity’s worst nightmares. I had sealed the door a long time ago to curb their reign of terror. As you can see, they can be quite terrifying when left to wreak havoc on the mind of humans.”
We shall show you how the game is played.
“They spoke to me. Something about a game and the truth.”
The words tumbled out, yet they did not materialize, a phantom among the plane in which I was not adrift. I was trapped in this body and still felt I had traveled through time to try to solve the mystery. It was there, on my tongue, a way to save us both from the walls closing in as the days went by. How long before it was too late? How long until there was nothing left of—
Silas’s hand was on my shoulder, clove and spice a home to bury myself in. It was in a memory, lost, outof reach of what I had hoped to be the truth. He held it at his damn fingertips, yet there were still riddles.
“You heard their voices?”
“You can’t hear them?”
“No, I can’t. What did they say?”
“They wanted to show me something, I think. The truth of a game they said they were playing.”
Silas paled, his gold eyes widening as his hands chased away the fire from my skin, bringing his forehead to mine, melding his being into mine. In that tender moment, my fears melted away, and I huddled closer upon that floor.
Right then, I needed to be sure I was safe. Even if it was with him, somehow, I felt protected there on the floor with him.
Fingers grazed my cheeks, twisting a singular strand between his index fingers, contemplative and possessive. Silas whispered, “Are you trying to get yourself killed here?”
He scooped me up and hauled me through the twists and turns of the west wing. The dark leaped back from him, as if they were scared or if they were a part of him in some manner or form. Waiting to be controlled, to be beckoned to their great master, carrying their prey to safety. By the time we reached the main hallway, they retreated as Silas stepped into the east wing.
Silas opened the door to my bedroom and deposited me onto the soft mattress and tucked me in. A stray touch lingered across my skin, stoking flames through a torn body.
“I want you to stay here, and please listen this time.”
“Then, you should tell me what you are hiding in the west wing,” I shot back.
“I can’t.”
“Why not? You are obviously hiding something from me. You have me guess your name night after night. Your castle is filled with ghosts, the village is plagued by death that, supposedly, you are not responsible for. And now you have shadows beyond a locked door that state you are hiding something. I am not as naive as you think I am.”
Silas stilled at the door, muscles tense as he pried it open to the indecision and anguish written upon his face. The numbness of my legs were pins and needles as I fought the blankets wrapped around my body.
