Page 86 of The Girl in the Forest

I read the answer in Fallon’s eyes. Remembered something Mosbach said, how a man in pain was often unreliable. Then I thought of the rabbit, the scream, and hoped Mosbach had screamed.

The thought should alarm me. But it didn’t. Because Grayson and I had become the dread lord and the faille. And together, our flames would consume everyone around us. Maybe that was a necessary cleansing. Maybe our fate was a destin noir after all.

“We should still ask Julian,” I said.

“He’s a vampire. Emissary or not, he’s not likely to go against his sire, if she thinks there’s an advantage.”

I turned away from the window, suddenly tired. “This queen wants revenge. She sent her creatures into a meadow to kill Grayson. She’s already destroyed Sutter. Azul. I don’t know how she’s lived this long, but I know now I am her enemy, too. And I don’t think she’ll stop destroying until we destroy her.”

CHAPTER 26

Noa

The rain came more frequently with the autumn, blending the days of expectation. We waited in the house of memories. Waited for Mace’s spies to report. For Julien. I’d been present when Grayson asked the vampire about the girl. Julien reluctantly agreed to find out what he could. But when he crossed his arms and looked away, I wondered how long he’d been waiting for the request.

Weeks? Months? How long had he known?

As time passed, Grayson and I avoided next-step conversations. We filled our days with simple moments. Curled in front of the fireplace in his childhood home because we wanted to feel the storm raging outside. Wanted to experience the energy in the real world. When the weather cleared, I’d taken his hand, leading him through the wet grass until we were chilled. And still, we bundled together in a blanket to watch the first stars blink on in the sky.

Other nights, we slept outside until dawn pinkened the sky and the morning stars disappeared.

But this night, when we seduced each other in the large bed stuffed into his childhood bedroom, I’d been unable to look away from the anger flashing in his eyes. He moved over me, his jaw as taut as his body, the clench and thrust, and although he kept the rage banked, his body spoke for him in ways only a woman could understand—in the ways I would always recognize.

I could read his expressions. His emotions. I didn’t think Grayson knew how little he kept secret. Before we made love, we’d argued, and I still couldn’t decide what enraged him more. Whether it was my sigil I repeatedly offered, but he refused to take, or the pending solution that he’d been unable to alter.

I wanted to know my fate. And if that fate—if our black destiny—was written in the book my mother hid, then we needed to read it.

I needed to read it. For him.

That required two failles. In this one thing, all the strength and power a dread lord possessed became meaningless. With the queen’s spell, the risk was too great, and I was adamant that he should not try to read the book. Or even touch it.

He was as adamant about me, trying to rescue Brin, venturing into Carmag territory and risking contact with the vampires who already had an unhealthy interest in failles.

But despite Grayson’s anger, his craving for me was a desperation. And my craving for him was too powerful not to give him the solace he demanded, the reassurance he found in sheathing himself in me.

His gaze had been hot on my face while I wrapped my arms around his back and gave him what he wanted. The lust of the mating bond raged like a torrent through us. We would surely burn out before it was over.

The way we made love—he was gorgeous. He seared my soul. I would never have believed the strength in such a bond if I hadn’t been living it.

He was the consummate lover, the force in my storm. Passion and fury. Every time he touched me, I was ablaze with hunger for more. But even as I reached each peak of ecstasy, a part of me flew somewhere else. Where a queen waited, plotting for ways to kill him, through me. I was not equipped with the strength or knowledge to fight her. And despite everything I did, no matter how hard I fought, or how often I begged him to take my sigil so I’d be bound to protect him… I still saw myself standing on the hill while he died in the blood and mud below.

A queen would use me to reap her vengeance, and that fear was the shadow that haunted me with each step we took, each move toward an end game I couldn’t see. I couldn’t explain it to him. If he guessed I was struggling, he’d stop this mad plan of ours. I kept my thoughts light and girlish, teasing and seductive as we made love with desperation, as if we could anchor each other in place. Stop the world from turning.

After we’d battled our demons, quieted them beneath satiation, Grayson slept deeply. I left the bed and wandered outside, wanting the real world. Wanting a blanket wrapped around me as I stared toward the north, where a storm raged.

Red lightning lit up the night sky, and as the thunder rumbled, I heard Grayson’s dark voice, stroking through our mental bond.

“The world burns for you, Bedisa.”

He stood behind me, his chest and feet bare. Only a pair of black pajama bottoms that hung low on his hips. Warm, hard arms curled around my waist, and I leaned my head against his chest and told him the truth: “The world burns for us.”

The first news arrived the following morning. Grayson put to right the house in his secret space while I tidied the house of memories. I paused in the checkered bathroom, at the threshold between the two halves of our world, and said goodbye to the puppy magic. A breeze brushed against my cheek. Then we hiked to Owen Griffith’s settlement, where Miranda welcomed me into her kitchen while Grayson went on alone. He’d be meeting Julian in a secluded, distant meadow filled with dark shadows, and I couldn’t go along.

I spent the time visiting with Miranda’s brother, Albert, holding his hand and syphoning excess energy from him until I sensed his wolf stirring.

“He improves more each day,” Miranda assured me. “Whatever you’re doing, it’s enough to start the process.”

Adriel came, and we hugged. Her father interpreted. It was a hard conversation to both see and hear—the tremor in Adriel’s hand gestures, and the deepening of her father’s voice. I hugged her again and swore silently that I would avenge the destruction in Sutter.

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