Page 65 of The Devil's Trials

A muscle feathers along my jaw, and I push away from the pillar to stand in front of her. “I tried.”

“Tryharder.”

I frown as she fades in and out like a hologram, as if I’m losing my connection to her. Ignoring the subtle lightheaded feeling I’m getting, I step closer, our shoes nearly touching. “I can’t.”

Her eyes dart between mine, her heart beating faster. “Can’t orwon’t?”

I bite back a snarl. “She ismine.”

Harper’s hand comes flying toward my face in an instant.

I catch her wrist before her palm connects with my cheek, gripping it tightly. It’s fair to assume that my eyes are fully black based on the horror in Harper’s expression.

“Loving you is going to get her killed,” she snaps, tears swimming in her eyes. “Don’t you understand that? Or do you just not care anymore?”

I lean in until her fist is pressed between us and I can feel each ragged breath she exhales. My voice is low when I say, “You need to be careful right now. There are very few I care about—”

“Oh, give me a fucking break,” she interrupts coldly, pulling away, further proving I’m not as strong here. “You’re being reckless and pompous and selfish and—”

“I think that’s enough adjectives,” I cut in.

Her expression turns incredulous, and she reaches toward her thigh for a dagger that isn’t there. She glances down, then exhales a slow breath. “You wanted to build some kind of relationship between us, but let me be very clear. If you hurt my best friend one more time, I don’t care who or what you are.” She lifts her chin, meeting my gaze. “I will kill you.”

I don’t have a moment to respond before the dreamscape falls apart, plummeting me into darkness.

EIGHTEENCAMILLE

The worst of my sickness seems to have passed a few days later. My energy still isn’t at one hundred percent, but I can’t keep spending all day in bed if I want it to improve—that goes for my health and my hunter skills.

After a shower, I throw on my comfiest sweats and shoot Harper a text to see if we can catch up. No more than five minutes later, my phone rings.

I answer it on speaker so I can finish making my cup of tea. I’m still slightly dehydrated, and my throat is a desert, so I’m downing as much liquid as I can.

“Camiiiii,” Harper sings into the phone. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” I say, taking a sip of my tea to coat my throat. I set my mug on the coffee table, then pull a blanket off the back of the couch, draping it over my lap as I sink back into the cushions. “Things were…really shitty, to be honest. I’ve never felt that awful.”

“Geez, babe. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to take care of you.”

“It’s okay,” I’m quick to say. “Noah was actually really helpful.”

“He took care of you, then?”

I ignore the warmth that fills my face. “Um, yeah.”

“Weird tone,” she muses. “Did something happen?”

Blowing out a breath, I pluck at the blanket. “Not really. I just wasn’t expecting him to be so, I don’t know, caring? It was kind of nice to see that side of him, considering he’s annoying me most of the time or barking orders at me in training.”

“Right,” she murmurs.

“Anyway,” I say pointedly. “I didn’t want a call to talk about Noah.”

“Fair enough. Whatcha wanna talk about then?”

I chew my bottom lip, grasping for a way to explain what happened while I was in what I thought to be a fever dream. “Are you sitting down?”

“Uh, should I be?”

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