Page 33 of Definitely Dead

Outside, he searched the streets, growling when he didn’t find any sign of Aster. The guy might be powerful, but he was still just a mage. As such, he shouldn’t have been able to poof himself out of the fucking room. So, where the hell was he?

They had only taken a couple of steps when Sunne stumbled, falling against Tyr’s side, his entire body limp.

“Sunne!”

With a quiet groan, he pressed a hand to his temple and jerked his head like he was trying to shake off a bad memory. “I’m okay.”

He didn’t look okay. The blood had drained from his face, making his complexion appear pale and waxy, highlighting the deep shadows underneath his eyes.

When Tyr continued to fret over him, Sunne brushed his hands away and stood straight, an odd smile on his lips. “I’m okay, really. Just got a little dizzy.”

He sidestepped when Tyr reached for him again and clasped his hands together behind his back. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

Tyr watched him walk away with a frown. “We’re going to the castle.”

“Right. That’s what I meant.” He chuckled, the sound distant and hollow. “Sorry. I’m so tired I can’t even think right now.”

While his explanation made sense, Tyr couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more, something Sunne wasn’t telling him. Before he could work it out, though, the door opened behind him, the screech of the hinges reverberating down the empty street.

“Do you prefer to walk?” Orrin asked, shaking back the sleeves of his silver robes. “Or should I speed things along?”

It went against every instinct he possessed, but Tyr shook his head and took a step back. “Take Sunne to the castle. I have to find Aster.”

“I’ll keep him safe,” Orrin vowed, walking forward to join Sunne. “Should I send Rune and Sindri?”

Tyr shook his head again. He’d feel better knowing they were at the castle protecting his mate.

“I love you,”he said, sending the words directly to Sunne’s mind.

Sunne stared back at him, his eyes glazed and vacant. He didn’t respond or react in any way.

Then…he was gone.

Chapter nine

Sunnecameawakewitha gasp, the remnants of a dream still clinging to the fringes of his mind.

While all his dreams these days tended to leave him vaguely unsettled, this might have been the most disturbing one yet. In it, he had been standing in a stone courtyard beneath a full moon, a thick book with frail, yellowed pages clutched between his hands.

Across from him, bound in a circle of runes and candlelight, there had been a cloaked figure. Though he hadn’t been able to make out the face, he had felt the rage radiating from beneath the robes.

After that, the details became a little murky. He remembered that they had struck a deal. For power, maybe? Magic? Whatever it was, it had come with an underlying sense of something dangerous and forbidden. Something he wasn’t supposed to have.

“It was just a dream,” he reminded himself, speaking the words out loud to ground himself in reality.

Sitting up in the bed, he rubbed his eyes, then stretched his arms over his head with a quiet groan. His exhaustion must have finally caught up with him because he didn’t even remember falling asleep. Worse, he didn’t remember making it home.

No, not home. Not the apartment he shared with Tyr. He was at Orrin’s castle, which explained why the mattress beneath him felt…wrong.

Tossing back the blankets, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and spent a few seconds contemplating if he really wanted to get up. Eventually, his demanding bladder won out, and he pushed to his feet and went in search of a bathroom.

He found the door to the en suite on the other side of the room, the doorway illuminated by white light that invited him across the threshold. Shuffling across the cold tiles, he lowered his head and squinted as his eyes adjusted to the brightness.

While he had never been inside a castle before, he had expected it to be a little more luxurious, or maybe charmingly rustic in a historical kind of way. In actuality, the bathroom was pretty normal.

While it had the basics—a toilet tucked away in the corner across from a standard shower, and an unframed oval mirror over a pedestal sink—it lacked that extra touch. In fact, it reminded him of the bathroom in his tiny studio apartment back in Louisiana.

Once he had relieved himself, he stumbled toward the sink, his eyes heavy, and his brain still foggy from sleep. Reaching for the tap, he glanced up, curious if the dark circles under his eyes had improved with rest.

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