I glance over my shoulder, and the awareness of being completely alone in the darkness sends a cold chill up my spine.
“Open,” I whisper, pressing both hands against the hard wall.
My veins dance in response, the black vines growing toward my elbows, and a shadow slithers from my palms between the stone cracks.
Yet, nothing happens, and I’m left standing with both hands on the cold wall, like an idiot.
“Yes. I’ve lost it.”
I turn, defeat guiding me away from the wall, resigned to return to Silas’s room. I round the corner when I sense something pulling me from behind. I spin on my feet with my fists raised, prepared to fight the invisible creatures that haunt Andorwood.
Instead, the wall changes.
The rough stone begins to shimmer, and some deep urge pushes me toward the wall. I squint my eyes in disbelief. Everything within me screams to turn away, not to move forward, but my curiosity gets the better of me. Always.
This can’t be happening.
I approach the cold stone wall, hesitating to touch it because of the sheer fear coursing through my body. I hear something down the hallway toward the central part of the castle. Thesame unnatural feeling I experienced in the castle courtyard washes over me, and my eyes widen. The invisible Andorwood guards must be lurking around the castle, doing a final sweep. If they find me while I’m alone without the protection of the Nastrondes, who knows what will happen?
Panic rises in my chest as I glance around.
“Run,” something ancient and familiar whispers in my ear. “Follow your instincts.”
I rush toward the shimmering wall and extend my hand—hoping it will stop me from slamming my face into the stone—and the vibrations electrify my entire body. The air is cold, yet I press on, allowing the magic to engulf me. The wall begins to consume me, and I slam my eyes shut, whispering a silent prayer that I haven’t walked directly to my demise. The world halts, the air tightens, and I feel as if I’m being compressed into nothing.
I try to scream, but there is no air available to leave my lungs. I claw at my throat, feeling like I’m suffocating.
The vibrations cease, but I keep my eyes closed. The air is filled with dust, and the smell of aged paper and worn leather surrounds me. I’m deep within the castle of Andorwood, a fortress cloaked in shadows and total mystery, and I truly don’t know how I got here. The air has returned to my lungs, but the panic doesn’t falter.
You can do this. You are Briar Blackbyrne.
I wish I could convince myself I was brave, because right now I want to pass out from fear. My heart races, my palms begin to sweat, and a lingering terror fills each of my cells.
I slowly open my eyes, and my jaw drops.
Where the fuck am I?
Chapter 10
The space ahead of me is vast, yet feels suffocating. The sconces on the wall ignite at my presence—burning away the cobwebs hanging from them—and I jump. Dozens of towering bookshelves rise to the ceiling, standing before me like mountains of history. Stories long forgotten by time fill the shelves, and each book looks to have been softened from years of neglect.
I step further into the room, struggling to adjust my eyes to the flickering candlelight attempting to illuminate the deep, dark shadows that linger in every corner. The room is silent, as if it’s been frozen for centuries. I grab a candle from a nearby reading table and reach to light it from a sconce on the wall. The candle’s flame wooshes to life, and I take a deep breath, steadying myself. There are books and scrolls scattered everywhere. How could anyone ever read everything in this room?
To my left, a longer hallway leads into complete darkness—to nowhere but despair. To my right, the room boasts large, towering bookshelves. I scan the room once more, taking in my surroundings, and my eye catches sight of a few small snakes moving about, minding their own business. I cringe.
With the center of the main room filled with light, I make my way to a wooden table cluttered with books, stepping over a few snakes on the way, thinking that being in the light—and avoiding the tunnel of darkness and despair—may be the safest route. I scan the table of books and notice most of the spines have faded over time, so choosing which book to grab first feels like a gamble. The persistent urge to look over my shoulder with each passing second weighs on me, but I force my eyes to stay straight.
There is no wind in this room; however, I notice a slight breeze from the left—like the room around me is taking small breaths.
A stunning dark amber leather-bound book with ornate vines woven into the cover captures my attention. I run my hand along the smooth binding. The black tattoo coating most of my hands tingles, my darkness urging me to open the old pages.
Does Silas know about this room?
My hands tremble as I begin to open the ancient book.
In the distance, something large crashes. My entire body jolts, the snakes quickly slither away, and the book in my hands falls to the floor. The rugged leather slaps the ground, and an echo reverberates around me—as if responding to the sound seconds before. Another crash in the distance snaps my gaze into the darkness before me. The disorienting shadows that line the bookshelves seem to pulse, and my heart races.
A low growl snakes from the darkness, and I feel the blood drain from my face.
