“Stop.”The word in my mind was like a break in my spiral, ending it before it could really get going.
I took a deep, shuddering breath, not realizing how fast my mouth had been moving, the way I’d rambled.
Shear spoke again. “That isn’t it, and you should know better than to think that. Unlike Kenyon, I am smart enough to identify something dangerous, and I knew you had that potential from the start.”
“Yeah, but I nearly killed a corrupted—”
“And in doing so, saved our lives as well as your own. You risked yourself when you could have stayed back. So, no, I’m not afraid of you, and I don’t intend to let you go, either.”
Let you go.Those words rang through my head, terrifying in a different way. I thought back to then, back tohim,to the way he still spoke through my dreams.
But Shear wasn’t like that, at least I told myself that. I said he was different, that the words didn’t hold that same obsession.
“That’swhat has changed. Before you lost consciousness, your mind was wide open, and I saw things you probably didn’t want me to witness.”
Oh…
I froze, the truth something I had amazingly not considered. I’d thought he’d wanted to cast me aside because of what I’d done, because of my powers, but I hadn’t thought it would be because of what had happenedbefore.
And, damn it, that almost hurt worse. Did he see me as filthy now? Had he seen what I’d done to survive and now saw me as damaged goods?
My eyes burned, but I refused to let that show.
“Right. Well, I guess it all makes sense now. Who would want some used, broken guide?”
“Yun—”
I kept going, not hearing him above the rushing of my own thoughts through my mind, the ones that spilled from my lips. “Of course you wouldn’t want to touch me, not after knowing the truth. Guess I should have said that from the start.” I got off the bench, needing distance.
I wasnotgoing to cry. He said my name again, but I barely heard him, trying to escape before I made a bigger fool of myself out here, in front of everyone.
Except a sharp spark of pain rushed through my temples, and everything went dark around me.
The next thing, I wasn’t there in the sunlight anymore. Instead, shadows surrounded me, faded and moving like the world had no shape. It twisted, dark and yet somehow familiar. Spiny trees took form, and a glance up showed the purple streaks of a dungeon.
My heart sped impossibly faster, until I worried I’d pass out right then. Had a dungeon opened? Had I gotten pulled into one without realizing it?
Could this be The Pitt opening early?
“We’re in your mind.” Before me, that voice took form, becoming Shear. He somehow looked even more formidable here, as though finally at full power. “I didn’t think this was a conversation you wanted to have in public, and you were spiraling.”
I let out a soft laugh, too relieved by the truth to be angry about him being in my head. Even my own mind was better than The Pitt. “So this isn’t your first time here, huh?”
“No. I’ve slipped into your mind a few times. At first, I didn’t understand what I was seeing, had to simply observe your thoughts, try to gain understanding without context. I am sorry that I had to so suddenly. It must have hurt.” He reached out as though to touch my head, the place at my temples where that sharp pain had seared through me.
I flinched away from him, something I hadn’t done in a while.
He froze, then lowered his hand.
“Sorry,” I whispered, my throat dry. Even if I knew this was my own mind, that it didn’t exist in the same way as an actual dungeon, my body didn’t seem to understand that fully. Instead, it reacted as though I were really out there.
“It’s fine.” His tone implied it truly was, but whether that was because he understood my reaction or just didn’t care, that Ididn’t know. “Now, have you calmed enough for us to have an actual conversation?”
The way he spoke annoyed me, as though he were above those sorts of outbursts. Then I recalled his anger the time I’d calmed him—he might pretend to have no emotions, but clearly that wasn’t true.
His eyes narrowed, suggesting he’d caught the stray thought, but he said nothing about it before moving on. “I wasn’t judging you for what happened inside that dungeon. I wasn’t avoiding you because I thought you were somehow sullied or damaged—though judging from this”—he waved around at the state of my mind—“you clearly were damaged by it. Instead, I was thinking about how it might have happened. I would look at you and see that, and wonder how you could have survived it. What made you different? How could you have escaped it and survived?”
“So you’re just curious? Like what I went through is just something for you to figure out?” I twisted as though to walk away from him, even if there wasn’t anywhere to go.
