I waketo strong arms around me, holding me against a broad chest. The scent of cedar tickles my senses.
Everett.
I grumble something inarticulate—probably a “what are you doing?”—and Everett shushes me.
“Go back to sleep.”
A second later, I’m dropped onto a warm, soft bed, and blankets are draped over my shoulders.
Then I drift away again.
I don’t knowwhat wakes me first—the feeling of eyes on my skin that tells me I’m being watched, or the heavy breathing of the men in the room.
Blinking wearily, I struggle to orient myself.
“W-what?” I sit upright in bed, rubbing at my eyes with the palms of my hands.
My first thought is—this isn’t a dream.
I’m still in a motel with Rafael and Everett, though at some point, I’ve been moved from the floor to the bed. Rafael sleeps soundly on the bed opposite me, while Everett is sprawled on the floor, tiny snores emitting from him.
My second thought? Someone is in the room with us.
Tension floods my body instantly, and chills careen down my spine.
Rafe and Everett continue to sleep, completely oblivious to the intruder.
Or…
Or they’ve been spelled.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Ice trickles into my veins, and I reach for my dagger I placed on the bedside table, gripping it tightly.
The silhouette in the doorway steps forward, and I let out a breath of relief when I see it’s Krystian.
“Holy fuck. You scared the shit out of me.” I place a hand against my chest as he continues to study me, unaware of the contortions my heart is putting my head through. “Why are you just standing there? And what’s up with Rafe and Everett?”
They seem like the type that would jump out of bed, alert, at the slightest provocation.
“I need to talk to you,” Krystian says in a low voice. “It’s urgent.”
My pulse spikes like a spooked rabbit as I throw back the covers and hurry towards him on bare feet. “What’s going on? Are we under attack?”
Moonlight flickers across his face like sentient white vines.
My feet still.
This is Krystian…but it’s not.
This close, I can see that his eyes are black as pitch. Inky veins extend from his eyes and branch across his face, pulsating beneath his pale skin. Even his hair seems to have changed. It’sstill white, but instead of golden undertones, there appears to be blue streaks layered in the strands.
Krystian’s smile widens, unveiling perfectly white teeth. “I wondered what Krystian was keeping from me. I didn’t expect it to be a beautiful woman. Hello, dear. You can call me Krys.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THEA
