It’s been fruitless so far—he hasn’t entered the room while I’ve been here. Not while I’m awake, anyway. Sometimes, I swear the ghost of his familiar footsteps echoes in the corridor, but there’s never anyone there when I check.
My eyes slowly flutter closed. After the council meeting, I helped Tumaas in the forge to pass the time, coating arrowheads with melted iron, the memory of Zev’s power coursing through me dominating my thoughts. If Tumaas noticed I was distracted, that my mind was steeping in regret and longing, he didn’t comment on it.
Now, the muscles in my arms and shoulders ache with every movement.My poor baby healer. Can’t handle a bit of soreness?His deep voice echoes in my heart for only seconds, but it’s enough for bitter grief to constrict my throat. I picture his stony face when he was reminded of my betrayal in the council meeting today—he couldn’t even bear to look at me. Hot tears slip down my cheeks. I let them.
I did this. I deserve this. Eyes clenched shut, still weeping softly, I pray for sleep to find me, even though I know his handsome, wrathful face will haunt my dreams.
The sky rumbles outside.
My eyes snap open.
Thunder echoes again, and my heartbeat ratchets up.
It must be a natural storm—Zev still wears his iron cuffs, and there are no other stormwielders in this camp.
A heavy weight bears down on my lungs. The room shrinks around me. I yank the covers over my head as the thunder grows louder. Angrier.
Like it’s here for me.
One more room-shaking thunderclap, and I bolt from the bed.
Zev.
He’s my first thought, the first comfort I seek, even now. Even if he hates me. I fling open the door, stumbling into the hallway.
Sura stands in her open doorway, already waiting for me. I hesitate for only a second before darting inside, scurrying to her bed. The mattress dips, and she settles beside me, her soft hand rubbing my back. A flash of lightning illuminates the concern in her bright blue eyes.
“You’re safe,” she whispers. “Mayah, you’re safe. The storm can’t harm you in here. Neither can your father.” Her forehead is cool when she presses it against mine, and it almost makes me forget the thunder raging on the other side of the wall. I’d told her what my father did on my second night here—the truth about my mother’s murder. Her fury had rivaled my own.
Another bright flash of lightning, and I clench my eyes shut, trying to block out the suffocating terror clawing at my lungs. My hand finds Sura’s beneath the covers, squeezing until I’m certain I’m hurting her, but she doesn’t complain.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
A loud pounding on the door has us both jumping.
“Are you expecting someone?” I whisper.
She shakes her head. Her dark silhouette crosses the room and opens the door.
She freezes.
“Here to finish the job?” Sura snarls.
A beat.
Then, “Is Mayah with you?” a deep, gravelly voice asks.
The voice I hear in my dreams.Hisvoice.
Sura leans against the door frame, blocking the view inside. She’s silent, casually examining her nails for what feels like minutes.
“Yes,” she says at last. Her voice is clipped, cold. “Anything else?”
He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t leave either.
“You can go now,” Sura hisses. “Terrorize someone else.”
The mattress squeaks as I rise, the floor cool beneath my feet. “It’s all right, Sura,” I murmur, placing a hand on her shoulder. She casts an icy glare at Zev before shoving off the door frame and stomping inside.
