I saw Gabby’s death. I heard my scream echo in the cavern, and I remembered how blood had filled my mouth as the force of it ripping from my lungs had torn my throat. The scenes of destruction followed, and as much as I thought I had healed, my soul ached with the same ragged agony. He had reached into my memories and yanked out one of the most painful.
“This was the first time I felt you beyond the veil. Your pain echoed mine.”
There was a flash of bright white, and the images shifted to that of a dark, damp tunnel, my mind registering every detail vividly. I heard the beast in my voice as I commanded Death. I saw my devastation when I realized the price that we would both pay.
“I felt it again when you begged Death for life in that crumbling tunnel. You woke me up, and then when you ripped at the very fabric of time and set us free.”
The images faded, darkness consuming the cavern once more. I growled and yanked my face out of his hold. Pushing him off me, I spun to face him, satisfied to see him take a step back.
“How dare you?” I seethed. He had no right to the memories he’d forced down my throat, and I wanted to rip him to pieces for making me relive even a moment of them. “Why show me this?” I demanded. “Why this room? Why are you willing to share all this now? What is the point of all of this?”
Gathrriel stepped back, allowing me the space to walk away from him. I took it. Even in the dream world, I could feel the eternal rage wafting from him, and it was overwhelming.
“I need you.”
My lip turned up in disgust. “Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t want to be any part of you.”
“Too late for that.”
His hand lifted, and another shimmering image appeared on the wall. No, not an image, but another one of my memories. I flinched and my heart thudded as I watched Kaden feed me back in that ruined temple on Onuna. My gaze locked on Gabby curled up on the dirty floor, ravaged by disease. She looked so small. I would have done anything to save her.
“This day, when you took more than you should to save another, your fate was bound and sealed to mine. Beings have fought and killed for my blood. A god stole it, shared it, and then you did the same. My blood is just pure, undiluted power capable of creation.”
He stepped in front of me, blocking my view of the images flashing over the stone. My head reared back to meet his eyes, the beast looming over me.
“What does that mean?”
“It means,” he reached out, gently caressing a strand of my hair away from my face, “that you are my shell, my conduit for what I need to finish.”
I slapped him away, careful to avoid the spikes on his gauntlet. “I am no one’sanything.”
That was a lie. I was Samkiel’s, but that was not the point right now.
“Do not be insulted. All of this was by your design.”
I shook my head in defiance. “My design?”
His eyes flashed with tolerant amusement as if I were a naïve child, unaware I had offered him the world. “Yes, you cheated death. You created a tear in the veil between the living and the dead, giving me a chance to slip through.” His nostrils flared. “Although I was not the only one, it seems.”
Cold sweat slicked across my skin. Me. I did this when I begged and saved Samkiel. Resurrection not only had a cost, but it also had consequences. That’s why Unir was here too, why he could touch me.
“How did you do it?” he asked.
“Do what?”
“Bring yourself back?”
I hid my confusion, keeping my expression neutral. Gathrriel thought I’d cheated death for myself, not for Samkiel. He must have misinterpreted what he saw in my memories. If the creepy spiked man did not know the truth, then Samkiel was probably safer that he didn’t, and I would keep it that way.
“What can I say? Lucky, I guess.” I shrugged.
“Perhaps,” Gathrriel said, his gaze speculative as he studied me. He took a step forward, and I took one back, his eyes tracking my every movement. “Every day you waste, my enemies grow stronger. I cannot wait any longer.” His eyes burned, raging orange flames rolling over them.
“Haven’t you been dead for a while now?” I asked. “Your enemies are probably already dead, too. But even if they’re not, it’s not my problem.”
“There is something near you,” he said, ignoring me. His eyes were fixated on me as if he were trying to solve the puzzle that was me. “It’s something that blocks me from you when you slumber, but it appears whatever it may be is not there now. That will make it easier to slip inside you.”
My lips quirked. “We need to work on your phrasing.” I knew I shouldn’t bait him, but I was terrified of where he was going with this, and that was my go-to.
