I follow each pulse that drums in my ears. Waiting for the next beat to introduce the summoner of the scream. For chaos to break.
But as the seconds tick by in undisturbed silence, I slowly rise from the floor to get a full look at the other hall’s reflection.
A smeared trail of something dark drags along the floors from beyond the hallway to the doors of the dining hall. One of the runners is scrunched.
I tighten my grip so as to not drop my blade.
What in the hells? Where is Devin? The guards? Are we under attack?
The memory of the Dark Seer’s vision thrums within me—blackblood filling the castle. That vibration stirs again. My blood freezes as something flashes within the shadows of the reflected hall.
Not a vibration.
Agrowl.
Deep beyond any human comprehension. Eyes like a serpent’s blink open, staring back at me through the darkness. Through the mirror. It prowls forward, still cloaked in shadow that I can’t make out anything but its glowing gaze.
I don’t run.
I can’t.
That’s not who I am.
And if some woman has been dragged from her bed and is lying bleeding out, it’s my duty to do what I can to save her. So I drop any sense of self-preservation and step out from the corner to meet the creature.
The hallway is empty.
Quiet.
No beast is at the end waiting to pounce. No glowing eyes in the shadows. No sinister liquid smeared on the floors, or even a scrunched rug.
Everything is…normal.
Am I seeing things?
Fighting against my instincts screaming at me to turn and run, I inch my way down the hall. My dagger is drawn and pointed. My attentionfocused mostly on the spot I had seen the eyes, but flicking to my left and right as I move down the hallway.
My muscles tense in anticipation as I get to the doors into the dining room. Taking one last long look at the shadows near the end of the hall, I slowly crouch down to run a hand over where I swore I saw the runner scrunched. Where there was a dark trail.
A flicker in the corner of my eye catches my attention. I turn back to face the shadowed end of the hallway. Raising my blade, I point it right where I had seen those eyes last. Right where theyaren’t.
Holding my stance, allowing my breath to be the only thing that moves me, I lock into the spot. Waiting for a glimmer. A shift. Something to prove that what I saw was real.
The longer the time ticks by, the more foolish I feel. Swallowing away my pride, I lower my hand. Today was too much. It’s taking such a toll on me that I’m seeing things. Sleep deprivation and intense stress can cause hallucinations—both were commonly seen when torturing prisoners.
“What in the hells are you doing up?” someone hisses behind me.
I jump to my feet and face the voice.Devin.
In the few seconds I take to slow down—to gather my breath, even my pulse, and lower my arm, I answer, “Cyrus called for me.”
Genuine confusion knits his eyebrows before they fall into something harder. Like suspicion. “Did he now?”
I take a slow step back. “Yes. He did.”
“Then why are you out here?” He motions down the hallway. “His office is not in this direction.”
“I-I heard a scream.”
