“No,” I whispered.
His gaze darkened. “You’ve seen the prison for the cursed. The dead.”
A shiver ran through me.
“It’s just a drawing,” I said weakly.
“It’s not just a drawing,” he snapped. “This place is cursed,Tilly.”
I swallowed hard.
“It’s worse than cursed. It’s a graveyard for souls that will never rest. And you…” his voice dipped lower “…shouldn’t be able to see it.
His gaze lingered on me a moment longer than it should have.
Unless?”
He stopped abruptly, eyes narrowing.
“Unless what?” I pressed.
Fionn shook his head, jaw clenching.
“It means you’re seeing things you shouldn’t,” he said finally.
“And if you’re seeing this…” His gaze flicked back to the sketch. “Then the curse is already working its way into you, much further than we thought.”
He snapped the book shut and handed it back to me.
“If I were you, I’d stop putting these visions on paper.”
“Why?”
“Because it’ll draw attention, and not the kind you want.”
Fionn’s eyes narrowed. He stepped closer, his tall frame towering over me, he spoke quietly. “You think you’re safe from Vareth, don’t you? That you can survive this place untouched.”
“Maybe I can.”
“No one survives, Tilly. Not unscathed. Not even the ones who live.”
For a fleeting moment, I saw something raw in him. Then it vanished.
“You need to be careful,” he said. “If the curse is taking hold of you, it’s only a matter of time before it consumes you, and when it does…”
“I won’t let it,” I said. “I’m going to fight it.”
“You are not in control,” he said. “None of us are and if you keep playing with things you don’t understand…”
“And if I do?” I challenged.
Fionn’s lips curved into afaint, dangerous smile.
“Then you’ll finally understand what it means to be one of us.” He leaned in, so close I could feel his breath.
“The darkness will take you, and you will burn with the rest of them.”
A couple of drops of rain brushed my face. Fionn frowned, and for a moment I glimpsed in his eyes a darkness edged with pain a pain I hadn’t seen in Cillian or Torin.
