Page 46 of Bound By Song

A voice – angry, gruff, demanding.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

I freeze.

My heart leaps into my throat as I twist around, my foot slipping.

Oh no.

The ladder tilts, my body jerking to the side, and I start to fall. My breath catches, panic surging through me as I try to reach for something, anything, to stop myself from hitting the ground.

BLAISE

I’m not sure what it is, but something’s been eating at me ever since we left. The drive back to the cottage felt too quiet, like we’d missed something, like we’d done something wrong. Maybe it’s just the rain or the fact that we’re stuck in a house that’s too clean and too perfect to be comfortable, but I can’t shake it.

I’ve been staring at the damn ceiling for the last half hour, listening to the others talk, but none of us are really functioning. I swear I’ve eaten all the damn snacks I can get my hands on too and I’m still just as restless. We’re just pretending to focus, pretending like we’re not obsessed with the woman in the farmhouse.

Finally, I can’t stand it anymore. I stand up, grabbing my jacket from the back of the chair.

“Where the hell are you going?” Xar looks at me, his eyebrows raised, frustration written all over his face.

“I’m going for a walk,” I mutter, and he doesn’t say anything more. I don’t want to be here anymore. I need air. I need space. I need something…a run, I guess, to get my head straight.

I need to stop thinking about her. I need to stop getting involved. She made it clear she doesn’t want anything from us. She’s got her walls up, and I should respect that.

But damn it, I can’t. I may be giving the others shit about their obsession with her, but if anything, I’m worse than they are because I’m a damn hypocrite.

The rain’s coming down in sheets as I sprint through the mud, cold biting at my skin and the wind howling in my ears. I don’t even know where I’m going – only that Ihaveto go. My legs move on instinct, driven by a gut-deep urgency I can’t explain.

Branches whip past me as I charge through the trees, my boots sinking into the soaked earth. I’m not a runner. I don’t work out. I definitely don’t owngym attire. But if I have shoes on my feet, I can run.

Everything is a blur of dark green and grey, the storm turning the world into a churned mess of noise and movement. But I can’t stop. I won’t.

Then – through the trees – I see it.

I skid to a halt, chest heaving, eyes straining through the downpour.

The farmhouse.

For a second, I just stare. I didn’t expect to find it – not like this. We’ve only ever come here by car, the road winding around in ways I’d never fully paid attention to. I didn’t realise it was this close by foot. Without the road, without the usual path, the house feels like it appeared out of nowhere, looming up from the storm-soaked ground like a memory I wasn’t ready for.

And then I see it – movement on the roof. Just a flash, a flicker of someone up there, silhouetted against the slate sky.

My heart lurches.

It’s Eviana.

I stop dead in my tracks, narrowing my eyes, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. There’s no mistaking it now. She’s up there, right on the edge, crouched low to the roof, her figure barely visible against the dark sky.

I swear under my breath, panic surging through me. What the hell is she doing up there?

“Eviana!” I shout, the urgency in my voice clear even through the rain and wind. My voice cracks as I call her name again, louder this time, my feet moving before I even register it.

She doesn’t hear me. Or maybe she’s ignoring me, too wrapped up in whatever she’s doing up there to listen. I can’t risk it.

“Eviana!” I keep running, my heart hammering in my chest. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

But then – she hears me.

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