of the first time Tibbs showed up in Cassia. He’d flown all the way from the Day Realm after his mother died in the plague. When I’d asked him why he didn’t stop in the Night Realm to offer his services there, he said it would’ve been the obvious choice, but he felt a longer journey meant a better destiny.
If only I could’ve known what lied ahead. If only I could’ve told him he was wrong.
Still, I’m grateful for the time I had with him.
When Linus passes the foamy drink to Kirian and me, I raise my glass. “To Tibbs.”
Whitley
A ladder at my back. Iron bars ahead. The glow from a single lantern.
I look down at the floor stained with dirt, blood, and who knows what else.
I’m back in the dungeon, but I know it’s not real.
I’m dreaming.
When I move forward, my steps are light, like I’m walking on air. I feel removed from the darkness surrounding me, almost like I’m watching myself from afar.
I don’t want to be here, but for the first time in my life, I’m aware that I’m having a premonition. It occurs to me that I could change it. I could leave right now and go somewhere else, but then I’d miss out on what I’m supposed to see. So instead of fighting against the vision, I welcome it.
Cautiously, I approach the cell.
The worst part about being here is seeing the aftermath of iron poisoning. The damage is extensive. All three prisoners are lying on the floor. They’re pitiful writhing lumps in the shadows. Groaning low, as if they barely have the energy to voice their pain. They’re naked, and they twitch every now and then, although their movement is very limited. The iron nets are wrapped tightly around their bodies like cocoons, causing a crisscross of burned flesh from neck to toe.
Such a sad display of the worst suffering.
It didn’t have to be like this. They could’ve chosen a different path, but they sealed their fate when they made a deal with the coven.
Regardless of what they did, I find myself hoping they’re unconscious from the pain. Maybe they can just stay passed out until they finally pass on.
The one nearest to me is on his back, and there’s a gaping hole in his chest from the spike. Blackened veins span out from it, climbing up his neck. Blood leaks from his ears and nose.
Suddenly, his eyes open and his gaze goes straight for me. “I know something you don’t.”
Gasping, I stumble backward. “What?”
“I have a secret. You’ll want to hear it.”
“Tell me.”
“Not until you make me a promise.”
Ugh. Faeries and their deals. “How do I know your secret is worth a bargain? What’s it about? Give me a hint.”
Instead of answering me, he lets out a wet cough. His lungs rattle with his next breath, and I feel a sense of panic. What if he dies before I can get this important information?
“What do you want?” I press.
He grins, and his teeth look like they’re coated with tar. It’s not rot, I realize. His gums are bleeding because he’s hemorrhaging all over. “You want to save your king, don’t you?”
“You know how to help Damon?” Rushing forward, I wrap my fingers around the bars of the cage. “Tell me.”
He opens his mouth to talk.
I blink and time seems to fast forward.
Out of nowhere, a large blade comes down on the prisoner’s neck, severing his head from his body. Blood spurts across the floor, and some droplets hit my face. A scream catches in my throat.
I close my eyes, hoping when I open them again, he’ll be whole. He’ll still be alive, able to say what he wanted to say.
Something taps my shoe and I look down. It’s his head. It rolled across the floor, and now he’s staring up at me, his blank eyes wide open.
I’m clutching something so tightly my knuckles hurt, and at first, I think it’s one of the bars I was just gripping. But I’m not standing outside the cell anymore—I’m in it.
My arm shakes as I lift my hand. It’s so heavy.
I shout with alarm when I see why.
I’m holding the handle of the ax.
I did this. I’m the one who killed him.
Why? Why would I do it? He was going to tell me how to save Damon, and I blew it.
Everything goes dark, and I feel myself floating back to consciousness.
No. It can’t be over. I’m not ready to leave yet. Mentally fighting against the pull, I