Subtly, I dip my head as I’m locked into his eyes. Past Marcella must have had a damn good reason for wanting to return. She must have known this was the best chance at freeing her brother. Despite the trials, and despite whatever secrets lie in wait, ready to be discovered.
Relief fills me as my name rolls off his lips. “Marcella.”
When I take the rose from him and turn to walk back, there are two misty-eyed women in the group. Both without roses.
Devin motions to the guards, and they move in for the two dismissed women. Some of the others around them bid them sad farewells. As their heels disappear off into the distance, Lady Bethany ushers us toward the stairs out of the dining room.
I don’t miss the quiet command from Cyrus to Devin behind us. “For the other two women in the infirmary with extensive injuries—let them not be escorted out until they’ve completely recovered. And when they have, they shall be afforded the full amount of rewards for if they stayed the entire time.”
When I toss a look over my shoulder, Devin and Cyrus are walking away toward the back corner of the dining room, where the door into a hallway is.
Someone pinches my elbow and when I whip to see who, Lyra mouthshurry upas she turns to scurry after the group. I stride after her, the two of us keeping the back of the line.
As we ascend the stairs, Lady Bethany calls from the top platform, “Well done, girls. We shall turn in for the evening. Today was quite eventful, and tomorrow we shall resume our regularly scheduled lessons. Starting with the reminder to not turn your back to a superior.” Lady Bethany’s gaze glides straight to me.
“Yes, Lady Bethany,” everyone says in unison.
“Yes, Lady Bethany,” I grumble.
Lady Bethany slowly tears her gaze off of me, and we all shuffle through the hallways. Women break off from the groups to head to their rooms. As Lyra brushes past me for hers while the rest of us move for the next hallway, I snag her by the arm.
“Tonight…” I whisper to her, searching her eyes and praying that this isn’t a mistake. “…your room. Midnight.”
Her mouth drops open, but before she can argue, I let go of her arm and motion her back to her door. Clearing her throat, she nods and slips away.
Twenty
- CYRUS -
Clenching my eyes shut, I slam my head back against the edge of the porcelain bathtub I’m lying in. “Get out,” I whisper through gritted teeth.
I can’t hear him. But his presence—like a shadow contorting through a thick fog—shifts ever closer.
My nails bite into my palms as I smash my head back again. Harder this time. To the point that pain explodes in my head, warning me that any harder and I might crack my own skull.
Through that suffocating fog, something creeps forward—an elongated, gnarled black hand ending in sharp claws.
Lurching up quick enough to slosh the bathwater out of the tub, my eyes flash open. My fingers grip the sides of the tub.
Myfingers.
Working to steady the erratic slam of my heartbeat, I wipe the wet hair clinging to my temple off behind my ear.
The bathwater is cold. It was warm a minute ago when I first slipped in.
Or has it only been a minute?
I unplug the drain and rise, assessing my body. Not even a hint of scales marks my flesh.
It’s just the stress getting to you, I try to convince myself and push my worry away.
I step out of the bathtub and rub my body down with a towel, leaving my long hair last to tousle through. I snag a pair of loose dark pants from my closet, tug my legs into them, and secure them at my waist when I stop dead in front of the mirror.
There’s not a way to describe the sound of its sickening, curled smile. It’s like leather being stretched, only it gives me the chills as if someone dragged a cold blade up my spine.
“Cyrussss,”it hisses. Its slitted eyes have taken over mine in the mirror.
Rather than ducking away from my own reflection or scurrying out of the bathroom, I widen my stance. Not allowing myself to shift my eyes off the creature staring back at me in the mirror.
