Rebecca reaches over and grabs my hand, squeezing it. “She loves you, you know?”
My jaw drops. “She doesn’t know who I am? Does she?” My heart pounds with both hope and fear.
The sad smile on her lips is answer enough. She shakes her head. “No, she doesn’t knowyouare her mother. But she knows her mother is out there, somewhere. I couldn’t let Pierce destroy that kernel of hope in her, so I lied. I told Skye that her mother was forced to go away, but one day she’d be back.” She pauses, wiping at her face. “That someday her mother would come save her from this place and take her somewhere beautiful and magical.” Her voice trails off, and she picks at her messy braid.
I open my mouth, then close it again. I haven’t given any thought to what happens if we make it out of here. How can I become her mother after abandoning her? What would I tell Lee? I smile at the thought. Lee would do nothing but love her, I know that with my whole soul. But am I ready to do this? Will I even be allowed to? Will Skyewantme?
My thoughts have taken on a mind of their own when Rebecca finally speaks again. “I’m sick, Capri. And Skye cannot stay here with them. You must do whatever you can to get her far from here. My son will help you. He knows of my wishes.”
I choke back a sob. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything. Just promise me you’ll keep her safe,” Rebecca urges, squeezing my hand harder until I finally nod in agreement.
Skye bursts out of the cabin, her face filled with terror. “It’s him, it’s him! It was in his bag!” She throws herself between Rebecca and me just as Lochlan strolls out.
A strange mask covers his face, and he’s holding something oval-shaped in his hands. He tosses it toward us, then it explodes, misting us with smoke.
My senses go numb. My eyes go heavy. I slide to the ground, trying and failing to hold onto Skye.
Lochlan bends down and brushes a hand down my cheek. “I’m sorry, Capri. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to do this.”
Chapter thirty-one
I’m already manifesting what I know can’t be true.
When I open my eyes, I’ll be back in my apartment in North Carolina. I’ll be safe, tucked into my bed. I won’t be in Scotland. I won’t be trapped in a smothering castle, surrounded by people who are trying to kill me. I won’t have fallen for a man who turned out to be a villain in my story. I won’t have watched people die in front of me. I won’t be a murderer.
I refuse to accept those facts as true. I refuse to believe this is real. When I open my eyes, I’ll be free.
I’m lying on something firm, but covered by a soft blanket. A door slams, and I pinch my eyes tighter as I hear hushed whispers close by. The sounds are all muffled and distorted, like I’m trapped underwater. The door slams again, leaving me in silence.
Please don’t be locked in a cage again.
Please don’t be surrounded by a bunch of men who want to murder me.
Please don’t make me dig through another person’s dead body to escape.
Please don’t trust a man, only to be captured by the people he worked with to cause this.
After what feels like hours, I risk a glance. My eyes flutter open, then close shut against the bright overhead fluorescents of the room. Mytongue feels like sandpaper in my mouth while my head pounds so hard it threatens to crush my skull.
I sit up, shielding my eyes with my hands against the lights, and take in my surroundings.
Manifestation did absolutelynothingto help me.
It’s definitely another cage, but this one has glass walls instead of steel bars. There’s a door on the opposite wall, but I won’t even bother checking that because chances are, it'll be locked. Across from me, separated by a clear divider, I see another door. Next to it, there’s a cot, much like the one I’m on, with what looks like a person lying in it. The blankets cover them, so I can’t make out who it is. I hope it’s anyone but Quinn.
I don’t know how to feel about him right now.
He wiggled his way into my heart with his steel blue eyes and dangerous smile, all while lying to me about who he truly was.
He’s the little brother of the monster who trapped us here.
How am I supposed to trust a thing he says after he kept such a momentous secret from me?
He did protect me from Travis, though. Quinn kept me whole and stitched me back together when all I wanted to do was fall apart at the seams.
The person on the cot shoots up, making me jump, even though I know I’m safe behind a layer of thick glass—as safe as I can be in a place filled to the brim with murderers. They throw the blanket off them, and when their frazzled, panicked eyes finally meet mine, I fall apart.
