“Heraphia! You have to flee!” I called out, desperate to save her.
But she collided with me, sending us both tumbling down into a ravine. Limbs tangled, we came to a stop close enough to the river that the forceful spray dotted my skin. “Heraphia,” I said, shaking us apart and trying to rouse her from her vision.
The hoofbeats drew closer. We had to get moving or we’d be caught and dragged to Sivy.
“I See, I See…” my friend said, her lips forming shapes but no audible words emerged.
“What do you See?” I pressed, hooking my arms under her and hauling her upright. But my muscles were weak, and I scarcely lifted her off the ground.
I swore and tried again. Why couldn’t I move? Why were my limbs gliding water when I needed furious fire?
My entire body froze as a laugh—sinister, wicked, haunting—ghosted over the river. It scraped over my skin, leaving me raw and flayed. Heraphia continued to murmur unintelligible words.
The males encircled us, leaving us without routes of escape.
No, no, no, no, no…
I’d failed.
Pricks of pain flooded my scalp as someone yanked my head back. Ice-blue eyes stared into mine, and lightning lanced every fiber of my being. “No!” I shrieked, jerking against his hold but only succeeding in falling deeper into his embrace.
Air seared my lungs as I yanked in a breath and jolted awake. The hard base of the tree pressed into my cheek, rings bowing out in front of me, leading straight to the Issaraeth. I slammed my lids shut immediately.
Heart thundering against my ribs, I attempted to slow my breathing.
Just a dream. Not real.
Heraphia was alive and likely almost to Sivy now. My captorhadn’t forced me to look at him, and no circular mark branded the space between my shoulder blades.
As the blood ceased rushing in my ears, I noted a distinct breathing pattern. Slow. Soft. Familiar from nights forced to rest mere feet from my fated mate.
Is the Issaraeth asleep?
I cracked one eye, just enough to take in his form, before realizing he, in fact, had succumbed to slumber. The rain still hammered the world beyond, a tormented lullaby that had dragged us both under its spell.
I’d never seen him so…unguarded. The seriousness of his brow, one jagged and scarred, eased in the land of dreams. Iron-gray lashes lounged against his carved cheekbones.
He was infuriatingly handsome.
Shaking my head to clear the thought, I flattened my palms against the wood and eased upright noiselessly, careful not to let the bronze cuffs clink. He did not stir with the movement. Breath shallower than the shores of a lake, I crept toward the canvas covering the entry, peering into the storm.
Fog clung to everything. I could scarcely see the next tree, let alone Ilae.
I glanced over my shoulder at the sleeping hunter.
Is now my chance to escape?
A waterskin rested against one of the packs.Mine.
I’d shoved virelthorn inside before escaping Ithuriel’s estate.
Could I sneak a hand in the side pocket and grab it? Could I dash away into the storm and escape the Issaraeth?
I had to try.
I snatched the leather straps and lifted the waterskin over my shoulder so it hung across my body. Then, my fingers trailed along the outline of my bag, searching for the vials. My heart skipped a beat when I found them.
Attention fixed on the slightest twitch from the Issaraeth, I reached inside, careful not to jostle the buckles. When I’d successfully retrieved the herb, I shoved it into the still-damp bind around my breasts.
