Page 40 of Marked By the Enemy
It wasn’t water. It was memory.
All tension left my body, and my shoulders relaxed. But when the images came, they hitched back up again, and my pulse picked up. The pool stirred, images forming and fading—dad’s departure, my mom’s lifeless body, the grave I dug, the trials I faced, Darian’s silent support. Moments layered upon moments. The bond shimmered, awaiting.
A new image surfaced—the mysterious red-haired woman with fae ears and hazel-green eyes.
There was an expanding feeling in my chest, and I licked my lips, nodding rapidly. What was it with her? She appeared young, then aged in front of my very eyes, her hair styled differently, but always the same presence.
A voice echoed in the chamber:“The Fifth.”
The pool stilled. The chamber brightened. The bond didn’t invade; it embraced.
As I turned over what the woman’s voice had claimed and wondered what that even meant, something surged up my spine. It struck through my chest so sharply I nearly lost my footing. The force didn’t stop. It rushed over me in waves, buckling my knees and driving me toward the wall.
I braced myself against the stone, breath shallow, arms trembling. My skin prickled all over.
When I looked down, the mark on my chest had changed into a complete circle. It glowed for one full breath—silver and whole. The fifth circle. The same shape burned into the trees, carved into the chamber.
I emerged into the light. Dawn had broken. The air hit harder than I expected, sour from the storm the night before. My boots scraped softly on the stone as I stepped past the final stair. I didn’t look behind me. The area behind had become empty. Just stone, sealed smooth again where the slit had opened.
I found Darian in the courtyard, arms folded.
He stared at me. “It shut behind you.”
I nodded. “I didn’t close it.”
He moved closer, and a nervous tick appeared under his eye, as if he was trying his hardest to control his temper. “But it knew when to end.”
I drew the cloak tighter over my shoulders. The air between us seemed fragile. The bond stayed peaceful, yet not soundless as it listened and contemplated.
“I saw the redhead again,” I said.
His eyes narrowed. “The redhead? You never told me about a redhead.”
“I assumed you were already aware of her. I mean, you can read my mind,” I said sarcastically. I regretted my words straight away.
His lips pressed into a white slash. “I’m not able to read your mind. I can only feel your emotions. I can’t hear your thoughts.”
I briefly wondered if he had been aware of my growing sexual attraction to him. I regretted that, too. I did not find him attractive at that moment. “She was old the first time I saw her in a pool at the Moon Court. She had fae ears, but her skin was wrinkled, which was strange.”
“Impossible. Faes age, but they look young until they die.”
“I understand. That seemed odd to me, as well. The second time I saw her, she was young and beautiful, with long braids. This time, her age kept changing, along with her short hair and long braids.”
He waited.
“She looked straight at me and a woman’s voice—maybe her voice—echoed her name.”
“What name?”
“The Fifth.”
That made him flinch, and the tether recoiled like it had recognized something it didn’t want to admit. I undid the clasp at the top of my tunic and pulled the fabric aside, enough to show the skin beneath the curve of my collarbone. The circle had sealed and blazed silver.
Darian drew a breath.
“I didn’t ask it to mark me,” I said.
He glanced down and pressed his palm to his own chest. He unfastened the top of his shirt, revealing a thin line, which also blazed silver now. “You’re further along.”
