Persie Merlin and the Door to Nowhere by Bella Forrest Page 0,2

he cut me off.

“But… you are human? Is that what you were going to say?”

I felt the caress of a misty tendril against my neck and jolted away. He didn’t get to touch me like that. He didn’t get to touch me at all.

I bent over until my head was practically on my knees, trying to make everything else disappear so I could breathe again. “I don’t want to talk about this now.” My head raised ever so slightly, and my hand touched the pane. “They… left me.”

“You do not need them. You do not need any of them. They are a hindrance to you, nothing more.” His wispy tendrils brushed my arms, but I had nowhere to run. “You will be their queen someday. There will be no glass boxes strong enough to hold you. You will smash them all.”

I covered my ears with my hands. “No! Shut up!”

Leviathan’s smoke grew thicker around me, the vise closing on my lungs. I needed air. I needed freedom.

“I just want to get out. I have to!”

A loud bang pierced the air, as though someone were rapping on the glass. My head snapped up as the hall, the box, and Leviathan evaporated, leaving me sitting bolt upright in my single, spartan bed at the Basani Institute. Sweat drenched my pajamas. The coarse sheets had twisted around me like a python, and, when I looked down, I noticed that my knuckles were mottled with fresh purples and crimsons. The bang echoed through the room again, more insistent this time. With a wave of relief, I realized it was coming from my door.

I untangled myself from the sheets and lumbered out of bed. As rooms went, this one was the epitome of uniform, devoid of any personality. The curved stone roof made it look like a tunnel that had been cut in half. It made me feel like I was in a cellar, but the circular window brought in the outside world and some much-needed sunlight—whenever the gray Irish weather permitted, that is. It looked onto a pretty orchard, with rich emerald grass dappled by the light that streamed through the leaves above. Plump, russet-colored apples hung from the ochre branches.

All of the rooms in the student quarters were more or less identical, from what I’d managed to glimpse. At least I didn’t have to share, and the rules seemed pretty lax. No strict curfew, just a note to be considerate of others—that was the difference between life at coven school and something tantamount to college. Plus, I had my own bathroom, which was a godsend, tucked away behind a narrow door that I could barely squeeze through. These rooms resided in an annex off the East Wing, with the male quarters in a different annex nearby.

Crossing to the door, I winced at the icy nip of the stark stone floor beneath my bare feet. I had to remember to put slippers on my list of necessary items for my mom to send through.

She left me in that box… I shook away the illogical thought. It was only a nightmare—an actual one, not a Leviathan-infused hypnosis. I could feel the difference; my head didn’t feel invaded, like it had when Leviathan had wriggled in. I took a steadying breath and opened the door to find Genie standing in the hallway.

“Finally! I was about ready to break down the door.” Genie grinned at me, only for her smile to fade quickly. “What’s up? You look all… sweaty and feverish. Are you sick? I heard there’s this thing called Fresher’s Flu that hits the new recruits in their first week. Do you need me to round up some meds for you?”

I put my hands up in mock defense. “Easy, there, I only woke up two seconds ago. I can manage a maximum of one pre-coffee question.”

“Sorry. I’ve just been on a run around the grounds, so I’m pretty jazzed.” She took a deep, meditative breath. “Are you feeling okay? It wasn’t a… you-know-what, was it?”

I shook my head. “That was technically two questions. But no, it wasn’t a Purge. It’s been”—I counted out the days on my fingers—“five days since the exam, and I haven’t had any symptoms. I think this place is already doing me some good.”

“Either that, or this Mama of Monsters thing is like food poisoning.”

“Huh?” My mind was still way too preoccupied with the dream to decipher her metaphors.

Just seeing her standing there was both relieving and triggering, since she’d abandoned me

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