Page 126 of This Vicious Dream

I’ve changed my mind.

I’ll kill them all.

Madinia tenses. “Don’t you dare,” she mouths.

She’s right. This is the best way to ensure Kyldare can’t pinpoint our location.

And still.

The soldiers spread out, moving with unnerving precision, guiding their horses carefully through the uneven terrain, hooves striking loose gravel. They don’t speak. They don’t need to. It’s clear this methodical hunt has become routine for them.

Madinia’s fingers tighten on my sleeve. “They’re going to find us. You need to move.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

She gives me a sneer that makes me want to crush my mouth to hers. When she elbows me, I drag my gaze from her lips, meeting her narrowed eyes.

“Don’t baby me, Calysian.”

“I’m not. If I stay with you, I can use you as a shield when my ward fails.”

Her lips twitch. “I’m not saying you should abandon me. If youdid, I would make you pay. But if you sneak around the other side of the chasm, you can cause a distraction.”

The soldiers are approaching slowly, but they’re spread out, at least ten footspans between them. My only option is to go up the hill behind us. But the ground has been loosened, rocks and dirt still trickling down in a steady stream.

The closest cover for Madinia is a patch of twisted tree roots—half exposed from the shifting ground. Even from here I can see the space is cramped, but if we don’t move now, the solider riding toward us will discover us within moments.

I point to it. “Can you get there?” My mouth is against her ear, and any other time I would smile at the feel of her shiver.

She cooly surveys the distance she needs to cross. Her mouth thins, and she gives a stiff nod. I don’t press her. If Madinia Farrow says she’ll do something, she will do it.

“I’ll head to the left. When I do, you need to crawl.” I pull the hood of my cloak up even further over her head. “Go.”

“Dismount,” one of the soldiers calls to the others. “The ground is too unsteady for the horses.”

The distraction is all we need, and I duck low, sprinting for the hill. I catch one glimpse of Madinia’s round arse, her foot held up in an effort to protect her ankle as she crawls toward the hole.

I find a sparse bush. It’s not enough cover, and my jaw aches from clenching my teeth as the soldiers begin moving forward once more.

Kill them all.

The voice sounds like mine, if I was stripped of all life.

And yet I receive no flood of power from the grimoire I’m searching for.

Truthfully, the advice is sound. And Icravethese soldiers’ deaths.

I was not created to hide from threats as insignificant as these men.

But I’m forced to admit our plan stands. If the regiment goes missing, it will point to our exact location. But if these soldiers find no sign of us, they may assume we chose a different route, ensuring we have a clear path to the grimoire.

As long as our horses also stay out of sight.

A solider lingers near our first hiding spot, peering down at something. When he lifts a hand, a victorious smile on his face, I tremble with rage.

Even from here, I can see the long strand of red hair pinched between his finger and thumb as his head whips toward Madinia’s hiding place.

My veins flood with power.

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