“We’ll have to stay here until you’ve regained your strength,” he said, casting around at the desolate beach.
“Stayhere?” I croaked, panic and disbelief ripping through my voice.
He nodded. “There is a portal to the Otherworld in the Tower of Souls. Or at least, that’s what I’ve been told. I don’t know anyone who’s actually been inside, and I’m not going to attempt it when you can hardly walk.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but I knew he was right. When Kaden and I had infiltrated the Watchman’s stronghold to retrieve Mankara’s text, Kaden had been poisoned, and we’d both nearly died as the Watchmen’s prisoners.
“There’s a structure further inland,” said Sorsha, face pale as she squinted through the gloom.
Indeed, a dark shape that resembled a building jutted through the fog.
Adriel nodded and strode toward the shelter as Sorsha helped me to my feet. My head swam from blood loss, but at least the drugging effect of Mirabella’s venom was fading.
We had to walk only fifty paces or so before a dilapidated wooden structure came into view. To call it a hutwould’ve been too generous. Light leaked through wide gaps in the rotten planks, and the thatched roof was half caved in.
Adriel’s shoulders bunched as he pushed the door open, peering inside to check that the building was deserted before letting us pass.
The hut smelled of mildew and rotten fish. The floor was little more than packed sand, and the only furniture was a broken wooden frame that might have once been a bed. A weathered crate in one corner was filled with empty glass jars and tattered sacks, but any provisions were long gone.
Despite its lack of creature comforts, the structure blocked the worst of the wind. Exhausted from our short walk up the beach, I sank down along the wall and pulled my knees tight to my chest.
“I’ll be back shortly,” Adriel murmured, turning toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Sorsha demanded.
“To find some proper clothes and weapons. We won’t survive here with nothing but the clothes on our backs and a couple of daggers between us.”
I couldn’t argue with that logic. The sheaths strapped to my thighs were empty apart from the one that held my witchwood blade, and my body shook from the cold. My sodden dress offered no protection from the elements, and I didn’t want to face any of the monsters here dressed like a vampire’s next meal.
A knot of unease coiled in my chest, but I bit back my protest as Adriel let himself out of the hut and disappeared.
Puttering around the dilapidated shack, Sorsha found adiscarded scrap of canvas and busied herself with fashioning a crude sort of bag for the Death Bringer’s hands. She tied it off with a length of rope that could function as a strap and handed it to me.
Flashing a tired smile, I patted the sand beside me. Sorsha settled on the floor of the hut, gown pooling around her.
For several minutes, the only noise was the rough sea breeze whistling through the cracks and the occasional shriek in the distance. It didn’t sound animal or even human, and the unearthly noise set me on edge.
Sliding the ripped fabric of my dress up my thigh, I unsheathed my dagger and laid it across my knees. At least we wouldn’t be completely defenseless if whatever creature was making those sounds came skulking by. Although, until Adriel’s herbs did their work, I had little confidence in my ability to fend off the sort of monsters that resided in the in-between.
I must have drifted off despite my nerves, because when I next opened my eyes, I was alone in the hut.
Startled, I got to my feet and went to the door, brushing wet sand from my dress.
I wasn’t foolish enough to call out for Sorsha. Not with those otherworldly shrieks still punctuating the air. I’d half-expected to find her and Adriel talking outside our shelter, but there was no sign of either of them.
Unnerved, I lurched toward the misty shoreline, following the sound of crashing waves. Perhaps Sorsha had gone to look for a boat. I could think of no other reason for her to wander this far from the hut.
Relief coursed through me as a figure took shape,though it was quickly doused when I realized the person in question was too tall to be the princess.
The male sat with his back to me, staring out across the churning sea toward where it spilled over the horizon. Gleaming ebony hair whipped in the breeze, and my heart lodged in my throat as I drank in the sight of his familiar frame.
“Kaden?” I rasped.
It was difficult to even form the syllables, almost as if my body resisted speaking the name to protect me from disappointment. He had to be an illusion — some trick of this place. But the male turned at the sound of my voice, and the warmth that spilled from his stormy gray eyes nearly brought me to my knees.
My mate was on his feet before I could move, closing the distance between us. His hands were cold as they brushed my cheeks, and as his smoky cedar-and-night scent wrapped around me, a quivering sob tore from my throat.
“It’s you,” I gasped, elation warring with my stubborn disbelief. “But how . . .”
