“Clearly. And I wish I could give you time to mourn and process everything that’s happened,” she stated, sounding unsympathetic and impatient. “But we’re almost out.”
A derisive laugh shot from my mouth. “How would you know anything that’s happened?”
She sighed; it carried that same bone-weary exhaustion from my dream-walk. “I know Ronen finally told you the truth. You’ve lost another… parent. Is that what we’re calling him?” Her mouth tightened. “And you want to save Hell and your mom by asking me how to use Praetervado.”
I froze. To know all that, she’d have to be some kind of seer. She had hinted at the term before.
“Who are you? Melanie?”
“No.” She raised her hands to her hood, slowly pulling it down.
I stumbled back, nearly falling on my ass.
“I’m you.”
She had my face. My eyes. Her hair was braided back the same way we did before training. It was like staring into a mirror—except scars peppered her cheek and another slashed along her neck.
“I’m not a powerful seer,” she said. “I’m future you.”
Holy Heavenly Shit.
She scrubbed a hand down her face. “You saw me in that dream-walk to Miriam. She used our blood to create the guardian bond. I pushed you to her because you needed to seeallof that. And I needed to know if I could finally tell you the truth without fucking up the future.”
Thrones could dream-walk to the past, so why couldn’t they dream-walk to themselves?
I remembered asking Cato what type of angel had the power to rip me from a dream-walk and speak in my head. He responded with:the type that could destroy a kingdom.He had used words from the creed. Words that only applied to another dream-walker, and according to him, we were the last two alive.
“Cato knew.”
“Cato knows a lot, as you’ve come to realize. Not that he’d ever admit to it. He’s stringent on anything that could affect time.”
Cato, Ronen, my father, mother, Miriam, myself from the damned future parading around like a know-it-all villain—they all kept secrets from me. Secrets that involvedme.
How did I end up in this twisted game? Why was I the fucking puppet attached to their strings, moving in ways they wanted and I never agreed to? What was the point of all this pain and suffering?
The questions acted like a gaseous poison, fumigating my system. And the expectation and cunning knowledge sitting in the tilt of herneck and twitch of her brows sparked a match. Anger surged. I lunged, tackling her to the ground.
I slammed my fist into her face. “You could’ve prevented all this! Put me on a different path! Saved her!”
She bridged, captured my arm and leg, then flipped me over. Blood spat from her mouth, hitting the ground beside my head.
“Oh?” she snarled. “Done blaming Ronen? Back to blaming ourselves?”
I tried the same maneuver, but she didn’t budge. I heaved upward, arching toward her face with bared teeth. “No. He killed her as much as we did.”
Her hand drove into my cheek, whipping my head sideways with a brutal sting. She leaned close, hot breath against my ear. “His safety was at stake,” she hissed.
“He could’ve found another way. She didn’t have to die. Why are you defending him?” I snapped.
She planted her palms on either side of my head.
“Because we’ve losteverything! Everything!” Spit flew from the vehemence behind her voice, her expression raw—shattered.
It stopped me cold.
“What do you mean?”
“What do I mean?” She shoved off me and stood. “I mean, I made all your mistakes and paid the consequences. I’ve spent hundreds of years trying to understand how time works. Killing myself trying tofixeverything.”
