“Good,” he said, his voice smooth. “Then you can show them you have no qualms with being with me and that it is not an ancient mandate that will yield your deference. De-robe.”
A chill swept through me, malignant and penetrating; I couldn’t move. This wasn’t him. He was cold. It was as if he had been…
…touched.
I woke abruptlyin a cold sweat, my head still pounding. The dream flashed in my mind like wisps of smoke but the very real physical pain I was in quickly took precedence. I couldn’t see anything, and my back was against a hard stone surface.
Something soft was covering my face and I was breathing in my own hot breath. A sharp yank of my hair made me wince and cry out. It felt like they’d ripped a chunk out as the covering over my head was ripped off, the sudden light blinding me and forcing my eyes shut.
When I cracked them open, the room was sideways. Someone was there, holding a cloth bag in one hand and watching me through an odd mask and a black hood, the rest of their body draped in robes.
The mask was silver, with swirling engraved markings covering it. Small holes opened in oval shapes for the eyes. I pressed against the wall I was near, trying to get away. My hands were bound behind my back, and I quickly scanned my surroundings.
“She’s awake,” the man in the mask called over his shoulder.
“Good, get her up.”
I recognized Melanie’s voice as the man dragged me to my feet. I struggled against the bindings around my wrists,loosening the knots desperately. As Melanie approached, my captor maintained his grip on my upper arm, and I finally loosened the bindings enough to slip my hand loose. Immediately, I elbowed him in the chest. He was surprised enough that I’d landed a kick strong enough to thrust him against the wall behind him. I rushed forward, drawing the sword at his hip, and struck him with the hilt to render him unconscious.
Quickly, I fell into a defensive stance, focusing on Melanie’s form as she approached me. Behind her, an arched doorway drew my attention. Built of black stone, the archway stood on a raised platform with four columns supporting the covering of the same black stone material. Intricate designs in a glowing purple were etched into the stone archway. Within the arch appeared to be some liquid material swirling and shifting. Nothing held it there but it stayed perfectly within the stone archway. Had it not been shifting and glowing, it could’ve been a purposeless door in the middle of an otherwise empty room. I couldn’t understand what I was looking at, but as the purple and black swirled and rippled, I knew it wasn’t a material I’d ever seen.
“They say if you aren’t strong enough and you enter the portal, you will be lost,” Melanie said, stopping a few paces before me.
She, too, was wearing a black cloak and black outfit consisting of shorts and a corset top underneath. Her sword was in her hand, and her mask was on the floor.
“Why did you bring me here?” I asked, having difficulty looking away from the swirling oddity before me.
“To make it clear what I told you in the beginning,” she said. “Stay away from Blake.”
Was she serious?
“Are you still on about this?”
“You shouldn’t be here,” she spat, rushing at me. I blocked her blade, bearing the weight of her strength, and barely pushed her back. “You think you can come here and charm everyone into loving you, but their lives are not that simple. You are a distraction who has never faced real hardship. The only reason you are still alive is because you have been protected,” she said, her voice dripping with malice.
I barely dodged her in time and rolled across the stone floor before returning to my feet and bracing for an attack.
“I didn’t come here to charm anyone,” I said.
“You should not have come at all.”
There was despair in her voice but I didn’t understand where it came from. Sometimes, I felt the same as her—like I shouldn’t be here. Many reasons drove me to come. I was told to come here; I had nowhere else to go; I might find answers here about my mom and Annabelle; and yet, none of those were what kept me here. It was hard to accept, but I knew it was true—I wanted to know who I was. With my mom gone, I didn’t know anymore, and I didn’t belong anywhere. As I watched Melanie, it felt familiar. I saw pain there and a feeling of despair that only someone who knew loneliness felt. Someone who didn’t know where they belonged.
“Why do you hate me?” I asked, trying to catch my breath.
She fought to hide her alarm, but she was bad at it. “You are in my way.”
I shook my head. “No—that’s not it; that’s an excuse. You were relieved when Blake moved on. Tell me the truth—why do you hate me?”
Melanie didn’t move.
“Ever since you showed up, all I feel is pain,” she whispered. “And I want it to stop.”
I gasped.
Pain?
What did she mean? How could I be causing her pain?
