Page 40 of Revenant

“What are the odds I landed exactly where you all wanted me?”

His movements don’t slow, but he stays silent longer than I would’ve anticipated. I almost think he might’ve fallen asleep, but then his soothing voice fills the room and I find myself drifting a little further. “Some things aren’t left to odds.”

I guess I shouldn’t have expected much of an answer, but I’m genuinely curious how, out of all the schools, this is the one I ended up at.

“Where were you living before?” he says, redirecting our conversation.

“New York.” My eyes drift shut, and I force them open again. “But I traveled a lot. I was never in one place for too long. Even after my parents died, my aunt Tessa was always on the move.” Interesting that the others I’ve spouted off the same answer haven’t shared with the rest of their little group.

“Is there anywhere you’ve always wanted to go, but never got the opportunity?”

I smile to myself as my eyelids grow heavier, thinking of the one place that holds no destination I’m aware of, nowhere that can be pointed at on a map. “My mom always talked about where she was from. She always said she wanted it to be a surprise, that she’d take me one day, but never gave me a country or even a continent it was on. The way she described it felt like it was the most beautiful place in the world.” The thought pulls at something deep in my psyche, and my lids finally close. “She said there were cottages tucked somewhere deep in a forest, nothing but trees for miles in every direction, the kind of place the world has overlooked. But the one thing she would always talk about was this willow tree. I was always told it was older than anyone could remember. It held memories of when she was young, and that if you sat beneath it long enough, the branches would move without any wind, as if the tree was leaning down to listen to you. And she…” I yawn again, trying to fight the sleep that’s vastly approaching. “...wanted to show me. But I’ll never get the chance.”

Elias’s fingers slow, coasting over my skin until they come to a steady stop. I want to open my eyes, check to see if he’s okay, but I can’t bring myself to pry them open.

“I think we should call it a night, kitten. I’m afraid you’re spent.”

He attempts to get up, but my body instinctively moves closer to him. “Don’t leave.” He freezes, clearly stunned. “Not yet, just…stay?” It has to be the sleep deprivation, because there’s no other explanation as to why I would be cuddling with a vampire, and asking—no—begging him to stay.

To my surprise, he lies back down, resuming the small touches against my arm. It’s silent for a while, and I’m almost in the blissful realm of sleep before he breaks it. “Why?” he asks as though he’s been trying to figure out why I asked him to stay since the plea passed through my lips.

“Maybe you can keep the nightmares at bay,” I admit.

He says something I don’t quite catch, and before I know it, I’m slipping off into blissful darkness, surrounded by comforting notes of bourbon.

13: Eryx

“What are you doing here?” I grit out, each word pushed through clenched teeth. As if I haven’t endured enough of her today. Veil seems insistent on reminding me from her grave that I’m not nearly as in control as I’d like to be. Of all the places Alicent could have ended up, she chooses the one corridor she—and everyone else—is explicitly forbidden from entering.

She startles, eyes growing wide. “I—I’m lost.”

Of course she is.

The timid little quiver in her voice only irritates me further. She thinks her wide eyes—the ones with fear dancing within them—and a lower lip tremble will soften me? Not a chance.

“Right,” I say, stepping closer, letting the shadows do half the work for me. “You expect me to believe you’re ‘lost’ and just happened to wander into the most restricted wing of the school?”

“I—”

“No.” A snarl rips through my restraint, my fangs pushing past my lip in a reaction born of nothing but disgust. “I don’t need another one of your pathetic excuses. Every time I see you, it’s a new one. How you’ve managed to get this far is beyond me.”

She flinches, and some inconvenient feeling of sympathy tries to surface. I shove it down immediately. I’m not entertaining this bloody foolishness. Instead, I bury it. She needs boundaries, not coddling. And, apparently, I’m the only one in this bloody place willing to give her the truth without sugarcoating it. Seeing as the others are so clearly wrapped around her delicate little finger.

Her gaze drops to the floor, shoulders curling inward, and I can practically hear the thoughts spiraling in her head. She’s overwhelmed, frightened, and entirely out of her depth.

Good.

“Why is it that you always find yourself in places you don’t belong?” I circle her, the rapid increase of her heart rate causing my fangs to ache.

“I have no idea how I ended up here. Really you have to—” Her words come out rushed, tumbling over each other as if she can’t say them fast enough.

“I have to believe you? Come on, little wraith.” Against my better judgment, I step closer to her, keeping my front to her back as I whisper in her ear, “you’re going to have to do better than that.” Her gasp fills the space, bouncing off the stone walls like a sick joke. The ghosts of my past wanting to make sure the sound stays engraved in my mind.

As if I could ever forget.

“Go back to your room.” My finger traces up the length of her arm, trailing up against the side of her neck. “It’s well past curfew.” She doesn’t move an inch. Whether that be fear or defiance, I can’t be sure. Regardless, I give her a little shove to get her departure in motion.

She pitches forward, not expecting the assault. She whips around, folding her arms, chin lifting in that infuriating way she does when she’s seconds from mouthing off. “Didn’t know when I decided to come here it was going to be a prison.”