Cason removed his hand and Brela huffed through her nose. “It was unsettling.”
“So you’ve said.” He studied her. “What was it about?”
“A celvusa.” Not a lie.
“The cold?” She tapped the shard and he nodded again, as if he’d forgotten it was there. “You said something, too.”
“Grounding, similar to your counting. I… sometimes I forget who and where I am. Those dreams are like getting trapped in my fortress, but a loss of self is more dangerous than just being caged. Words are… difficult, and sometimes it takes longer to climb out, but remembering my name is how I can let Elias know that I’m okay. That I came back to myself.”
She didn’t want to think about the fact that Cason had said her name before she was ready, because in that panic, she was able to hide the shadows that had crawled over her skin.
“That’s what happened with the Wraturo… and in Calcheth.”
Brela nodded. “It was part of my training after I escaped the raids. Detachment from emotions and more, except it works a little too well in my case. Of course, Dernian—Ovir’s father—didn’t really care if I came out of it.”
“Hmm.” Cason frowned. “While that was one of my questions, that’s not actually what I was referring to. You said something just before you woke up.”
She raised her eyebrow. “Did I scream?” That was uncommon, especially for that kind of nightmare.
He shook his head. “You whispered ‘vi os syq’.”
Brela froze. Even her trembling ceased. “I don’t know.”
Cason shrugged. “Not surprising. It’s not often that sleep-talking is intelligible.”
“No, you misunderstand,” she mumbled. She turned her palm over and stared at her fingers, as if speaking the words might accidentally call on her magic. “Vi os syqmeans ‘I don’t know’ in the ancient shadow language.”
His eyes widened slightly before he chuckled. “Clearly you spent too much time staring at that book earlier. Now you’re speaking it in your sleep.”
And then that question from her nightmare slammed into her mind again, the ancient voice rumbling like thunder and ice through her body. Like the growl she’d heard from the celvusa in Gerrart’s home.
She wasn’t just speaking the dead language, she had heard and translated it without realizing she’d done it.
Seim veis, chaseil?
What are you, child?
But even worse than realizing that the celvusa had spoken in her mind using the ancient shadow language—worse than the fact she answered that voice—was the choice of words the celvusa used.
Seiminstead ofsom.
Whatare you, notwho.
Cason leaned down and nipped at her ear, pulling her so quickly out of her thoughts, she gasped. “Vimeis!”
Brela’s eyes widened in horror despite the heat that rushed to her core. She went to throw her hand over her mouth, but Cason only pinned it to the bed.
Perhaps sensing that he should have allowed her to deflect earlier, his lips pressed into the sensitive skin along her neck.
“I have no idea what that means,” he whispered against her, warm breath sending a shiver through her body, striking every nerve.
Teeth grazed her neck as she choked out the words. “It’s slang, translating to something along the lines of ‘I like’, but it’s reserved for… pleasure.”
Cason’s tongue was there now, teasing her ear again, emptying her mind of… well, everything but him. “That book of shadow magic taught you slang words about pleasure?” he asked.
“No,” she rasped, arching into his touch. She had no idea when his hand had slid up the inside of her thigh, but that didn’t matter. She only wanted it higher. “You don’t want to know how I learned it.”
He paused and leaned back, raising his eyebrow.
