It’s raw and agonized, the sound of a soul being flayed alive. Every muscle in my body tenses as if I could somehow absorb his pain through the stone wall.
Another scream. Longer this time, dissolving into broken sobs.
“I’m sorry,” he cries out. “No. Don’t!”
My chest tightens, and I bite my fist to keep from screaming at them to stop.
Think of all the ways they’ll pay,my wolf says.Think of all the ways they’ll die.
The screaming goes on for hours. Sometimes words emerge through Kier’s anguish—names I don’t recognize, pleas for forgiveness, desperate apologies to people who might be dead or imaginary.
By the time Prudence finally stops, Kier has gone silent again. But it’s a different silence now. Broken. Hollow.
I hear the guards leave, laughing and joking as they walk down the long echoing corridor. The door to our area slams shut with finality.
Minutes pass. I wait, listening for any sound from his cell.
“Kier?” I whisper through the hole.
Nothing.
“Kier, are you there?”
A rustling sound, then his voice, distant and confused. “Adelaide? Is that you?”
My blood runs cold.
“I’m here,” he continues, but he’s not talking to me. “I know you’re angry. You have every right to be.”
“Kier, it’s Lithia. I’m in the cell next to you. Remember?”
“Lithia? The bear seer wants to know why I failed her parents,” he says sweetly. His saccharine tone chills me to the bone. “I’m sorry, Adelaide. Your parents died because of me.”
Gods, he’s talking to hallucinations.
“Kier, listen to my voice. You’re in a prison cell alone. There’s only you and me.”
“Lithia of the sexy voice,” He laughs, but it’s empty, brittle. “My imagination is getting creative.”
I frantically squirm my arm into the hole between our cells. “Kier, come here. Come to the hole in the wall.”
“The wolves are here,” Kier continues, his voice growing more distant. “They want to know why I left. Why I chose to leave instead of staying to protect them.”
“Kier!” I wiggle my fingers. “You need to touch my hand. Feel that I’m real.”
“More hallucinations. They always feel real at first.”
I stretch further, ignoring the sharp edges that slice into my shoulder. “Kier, come here. Please.”
My fingertips brush fabric. He jerks away with a sharp gasp.
“It’s me,” I say firmly. “It’s Lithia.”
Silence stretches between us. Then slowly, tentatively, I feel him move closer.
“Lithia.”
“Yep, I’m here. Touch my hand.”
