“For finding me. For bringing me back to myself.”
His eyes soften as he brushes my hair back.
No more words are needed. We both know what we mean to each other.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Annora
The wind whispersthrough the acacia trees as I walk to a small lake near Jasce’s camp.
I smile, thinking about last night. How passionate Jasce had been. How I had responded to him. It was everything I needed. Hopefully, I gave him everything he needed too.
Dirt and rock dig into my knees as I kneel next to the lake, lower one of my surcoats into the water, and scrub a stain.
“Annora…”The familiar voice slides through my mind like ice down my spine.
Aleksander…
I’d know his voice anywhere.
My hands freeze on the fabric as I turn, expecting to see him standing behind me, but there is nobody there.
“Annora...”
Panic sears through me as I whip my head around, scanning the tree line, the rocky shore, the bend in the river. Nothing but shadows dance between the leaves.
“Annora…”
I hold my hands against my ears, desperately trying to shut him out.
“Annora…”
“Get out,” I scream. “Get out. Get out. Get out.”
I focus on imagining a wall between us, and his voice fades.
Still, my hands shake as fear crawls down my back. I try to concentrate on my task of squeezing the water from the surcoat and placing it in the basket, but the fear is relentless.
I should have known he’d find a way to reach me.
The gods help me!
Please, don’t let him do this to me.
Please…
In quick, jerky movements, I rise to my feet with the basket and make my way to Jasce’s tent. Every shadow between the tents becomes Aleksander waiting to grab me. Every rustle of canvas in the breeze sounds like his whispered commands.
I hurry into the tent and find Jasce at his desk. “You have to do something about Aleksander.”
Jasce’s gaze jerks to me. “What do you mean?”
My hands shake as I set the basket down. “He’s calling to me, Jasce. Increase the number of flowers you’re giving him.”
“That’s impossible.” Jasce slides his chair back and stands. “He’s gagged.”
“No.” Stray strands of hair lash against my cheeks as I shake my head. “He’s calling to me in my mind.”
