How can it communicate with me when I have the Rigil tattooed on my body?
“You need the book,” the creature hisses into my mind. “Crimson will catch your eye.”
The creature gradually withdraws its hand from my mouth, and I stay silent. I wipe my lips, fighting the urge to gag at the creature’s hot touch. Even though the creature seems hollow, a dust coats my lips, and my stomach churns.
“Where?” I ask in a whisper. “The Archives?”
The creature looks back at Silas, and I freeze. He stirs but remains asleep. Thank Gods this man sleeps like a rock.
The creature nods.
“What is in the book?” I hesitate to ask.
“Answers,” the creature says, before it steps back.
“But, what answers?” I pry.
The creature begins to create distance between us, and I resist the urge to follow it into the dense forest surrounding us.
“To everything,” the haunting voice says, snaking into my mind.
I lean forward, desperate for the creature to stay. “Wait,” my voice yells, louder than intended. “Just tell me. Please.”
The creature slowly fades into the shadows and nods its putrefying face. “They are coming.”
The creature vanishes, shadows swirling into the darkness, and the air lightens. I remain still for a moment, my chest rising and falling rapidly. Its face was so disturbing, but its eyes—they were so green. I’ve never seen eyes that green, and the image is burned into my mind.
Silas stirs beside me and groans. He cracks open his sleepy eyes, and green eyes once more stare into mine. The good thingabout being frequently haunted is that it doesn’t take me long to calm myself, but annoyance lingers.
The words play over in my mind:you need the book.
I shake the fear from my mind and lean down, kissing his soft lips.
“Good morning to you, my love,” he says, with a smile as he stretches.
I glance back at the distant trees, and the shadows remain still. No motion—no movement at all—other than the subtle dawn breeze.
“What’s wrong?” Silas notices my state.
“I’m going to be late meeting Larkin,” I say. “But for once, I’m glad for your insane ability to sleep through anything.”
Silas wipes the sleep from his eyes, and before I can react, he playfully pulls me down. The sudden tug causes me to land on top of his strong body.
“Larkin can wait,” he grumbles and tries to pull me even closer to him. “I want you all to myself.”
“No, he can’t. He already hates me for some reason, and this won’t help my case.”
Silas groans against my neck.
“Briar,” he grumbles.
“Get up, Nastronde.” I tug at his shirt. “Shift me home.”
He smiles, leaning in to kiss me. His hands brush through my hair, and a soft exhale leaves his chest as we tangle together for a moment, completely lost in one another. My body calms, but my racing heart doesn’t ease up.
“Your heart is pounding,” Silas says. “Did you have a nightmare?”
“Something like that,” I smile, pressing my lips to his again. “We need to go.”
