I drop my head against the couch and groan. “I’m scared.”
“I know.” Ciprian squeezes my hand. “But Celine won’t be. She trusts you as much as I do.”
“I do too,” Ali whispers. “And as much as I’d like to see more data to back this theory up before we attempt any more trial runs”—he shoots Ciprian a pointed look—“we’re working with limited resources here.”
My stomach flips.
They’re saying nice things to me, but I want them to shut up. It’s as if I’ve got them fooled in the worst way. They think I’m safe. Incapable of hurting them, but they don’t understand what the basilisk is like.
The rattle beats a frenzy in my chest. This is Riven’s fault. He’s the reason I’m backed into a corner with no way out. I shove myself up from the couch.
“The onlylimited resourceis Celine, and I won’t risk her life for anything.” I’m yelling; I realize that, but I can’t do a damn thing about it. I’m a pressure cooker. The frantic energy is hellbent on finding a way out—with or without my permission.
Eyes wide, Alistair reaches for me.
I back away from him until I bump into the glass wall. It’s cool against my sweaty palms, almost the same temperature as the liquid rushing into my eyes.
No. No. No. No. No.Not now. Not ever.Get back and leave us alone!I yell at the basilisk, punching and kicking and shoving and biting until it curls up in the corner, beaten and cowed by my fury.
You’re a poison to her,I tell it.Stay back or I’ll lose her.
The rattling fades.
I sag against the glass and slide to the floor, covering my face with my hands. If I can’t see them, I can’t hurt them, right? They’ll be safe from me. From it.
Without the rattle, I’m bruised, as if I just beat the shit out of myself. Humiliated, too. This isn’t who I am. I’m supposed to bethe fucking lighthouse—a spinning beacon, defeating the darkness and bringing hope to drowning sailors lost in hungry waters. At the very least, I’m the guy who tosses you the rope, then makes you a cup of coffee while you warm up and dry off.
These feelings suck. I don’t want them anymore, but the basilisk didn’t deserve this.
I’m sorry.I think the words but get nothing in response. The hollow emptiness is weird.We’ve always been separate yet squished together. Awkward, resentful roommates—me and the dangerous part of me I’d rather forget about.
How can Celine love a monster?
She loves usss. We keep her sssafe. She’s ourssss.The voice is small. If I wasn’t collapsing in on myself like a dying star, I doubt I would notice it at all.
You won’t hurt her?I think the question, feeling stupid for trying to communicate with the beast at all.
Never. I ssswear it.
This binding thing. Could it work?
It doesn’t answer this time, but now that I’m listening, I feel it—the basilisk isn’t sure. In fact, it’s only sure about one thing: that it will never in a trillion lifetimes hurt a single hair on Celine’s head.
Can we risk it?I ask, running my tongue over the tips of my fangs.
This time, when it replies, the words are so clear they may as well be spray-painted in graffiti block letters on a fucking bridge abutment.
We mussst. Thisss realm will kill usss if we ssstay.
My fangs nick my tongue. Blood mixes with venom until it’s all I taste. I asked, though, and I guess I have my answer. What I do with this information is up to me. And Celine.
I open my eyes. They’re painfully dry.
Ciprian, Ali, and Riven are staring, but they’re trying to be casual about it. As if I didn’t just have a meltdown then retreat inside myself for a Luca-on-Luca pep talk.
Ridiculoussss.
My lips twitch. “Where’s my girl?” I ask, accepting Ciprian’s hand and letting him pull me to my feet. “I’ve got some explaining to do.”
