How could I ever forget that I killed my mom? She had two months. Two months. Until?—
Air stuttered in my throat, unable to force its way down.
“Hellion.”
Light-headedness knocked me to my knees. Ronen followed me to the floor, capturing my face in his hands.
“Look at me.”
No. I couldn’t. I forgot her. I smiled at Alexei. I worried about Aspen and Ronen. I thought of everyone but her. I couldn’t find relief in his eyes. I couldn’t. I deservedthis.
“Look at me, Lucille.” Tingles erupted across my face, and a steady, calm warmth flowed down our bond.
I lifted my head. He knew what he was doing. I tried to resist the pull of his soul attempting to soothe me.
“Breathe for me, Lucille. Or I’ll do it for you,” he warned, but it fell flat with the warmth and concern trying to steady me.
I inhaled, matching his breath. We did it two more times, and he watched my chest expand like the moment it didn’t he’d force air down my throat and make me. Once he was satisfied with my breathing, he met my gaze.
“You do not deserve to drown in suffering. She would want you to live.”
“Would she?” My voice cracked, and I pushed to my feet. “After I stole her life and soon her afterlife too?” I fled from the room before he could use his eyes and words to make me feel better and headed straight for the library.
Chapter
Fourteen
Lucille
Iripped open the library door and charged toward the dark bookshelves. My shoes smacked against the white marble, “Cato!”
“Yes,” he drawled from behind me.
I twisted. “How do I skip ahead in your stupid book and learn the advanced levels of dream-walking?” I demanded. I didn’t have time to learn anything but how to turn back time to save my mom.
“You don’t.”
I stepped toward him. “Tell me how.”
“No.”
I was about two seconds away from grabbing Cato’s robes and forcing him to tell me when his eyes flashed black with white specks, and the air deadened. I couldn’t hear. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even move. Then, as if in slow motion, Cato touched my forehead with a flaming purple finger.
“Let’s see if you can pass.” His voice no longer sounded like him. It sounded ancient and echoed as if a multitude of others spoke through him. It reminded me of the Drune in The Divide.
I blinked, and Cato stood farther away, holding open a book.
“Why are you still standing there? Is this not what you asked for?”
“I—”
Didn’t he just tell me no?
Hesitantly, I walked toward him, reaching for the book as if he’d slam it closed and laugh in my face. He didn’t. He only watched me unblinking. Once the book was in my hands, he glided away.
“Remember our creed, Princess.”
A creed that went against the very thing I was trying to accomplish. No, I’d rather not.
