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“You did this,” it hissed in Retian.

I…

“Monster.” The reflection bared its teeth, advancing closer. The fire tore through his chest with every step.

No.

“Snake.” His image shifted to that of a woman with long black hair, the Serpent appearing in her eyes. Leona.

Stop!

“God Eater.” She changed to an older, dark-skinned man with the appearance of the Gnaw. Ragnar.

I didn’t want this!

It changed again when the Guardian showed itself. Caine. Healthy, whole, and alive.

The pain pushed deeper before it was yanked from him, leaving behind the sickening sound of flesh tugging at the release. He fell to the pool of sticky blood at his feet.

Caine’s visage shimmered between himself and his elder brother. He called the shadow back, kneeling to place a hand on Draven’s neck, the other on his shoulder. Draven felt the dying beat of his pulse under the pressure of Caine’s thumb.

“Is this what you wanted?”

Chapter Thirty-One

Jarek woke with a start, launching upright and grabbing at his chest like his heart was slipping away. Eyes pinched shut, all he could sense was the slowing of the Serpent’s waves in his ears.

Another nightmare? They came little since leaving the peninsula. This was the first he’d had in a while, and it felt so real.

He sighed. It was only a dream. Nothing more.

“…shouldn’t… woken…”

Jarek opened his eyes, allowing his vision to settle. Across from him, crouching, was Lilith. Her eyes dared to be timid and her stance rigid as if he were a feral lynx caught in a snare and she hadn’t decided whether to release him or wear his pelt for warmth. Jarek stared back at her in a groggy and irritable haze—the impact of the terror and… other feelings, all too fresh.

“Light before creation, Lilith, stop looking at me like that.”

She scowled. “Then stop looking like I just poked you with a hot prong.” Angry red poured off her in waves. “I’ve changed my mind. You can stay out here and freeze your ass off for all I care.” She turned from him and added “prick,” as sweet as vinegar for good measure.

That certainly provoked a change. Jarek rubbed a not so calming finger against his temple. “I take it back. Your bites hurt.”

“I don’t have time for this,” she complained. “Escort the grump inside when he’s good and ready, and maybe we’ll salvage what’s left of his arm.”

Jarek almost preferred to be called a prick, and was about to express so, when he realized where he was—inside a stationary wagon. He craned his neck about and lifted the line of tarps beside him, revealing sharp metal boxes that leaked a glacial air, overwhelming the bitter chill of late night.

“Where are we?” he asked.

Lilith halted her retreat. “Ava’s plantation… Along the Vestial River?”

“When did we get here?”

“Not even an hour ago.”

“Why don’t I remember this?”

“You were sleeping.”

“Sleeping? For how long?”