Page 9 of Woven Souls

I tilt my head upward to stare at the ceiling as another stretch of silence falls between us.

Movement next to me tells me Willow has turned her head to look at Jonah. I’m sure they are exchanging looks with one another. They seem to have that type of bond. I wish I could be in on that. There’s more movement.

“When you say heads of the others, what do you mean by that?” she asks.

When I look down, I find Willow staring up at me, her lids halfway open.

Anger, hot and undeniable, flares through my chest. Through clenched teeth I tell her, “I killed those fucking Ghosts, Willow. For threatening you, trying to blackmail us, and for killing LeAnna and all the others in those urns.”

I make sure she sees the monster in me as it thirsts for more blood to take. “And I’d do it again if I could.”

To my surprise, Willow smiles. It’s a small one, but it lingers as she stares up at me.

A smile. It’s not forgiveness, but it’s something.

I can live with that for now.

Chapter3

WILLOW

When I wake up this time, my head is clear.

And my stomach is empty.

Good Lord, I’mstarving. Which is a good sign because for the past few days, food has been the last thing on my mind. There’s no doubt it’s because of the company I keep that my appetite has returned. When my eyes open, I find myself facing Jonah. His blond curls have dried by now. Staring at his clean face, I find myself a little jealous.Iwant a shower. Maybe I can find the bathroom and take one myself.

After I eat, of course.

As I sit up, I find myself sandwiched between two bodies. Frowning, I look over and find Kwil’s still here. Oh, that’s right, I’d asked him to stay.

He’s fast asleep, his limp arm draped over my waist. His long dark hair is loose, the sides unbraided and spread over his shoulder and partially covering his face. That face… No wonder he wore the hood. It would be impossible to walk down the street without drawing attention, questions, and terror. Yes, his appearance is…different, and for a heart stopping moment, I was afraid when he finally showed it to me. But looking into his deep blue eyes, I knew there was nothing to fear from him.

Until he allowed Theo to stab me.

My heart clenches in my chest at the betrayal. Kwil stood there andwatched. The others I hardly trusted, but somehow Kwil had wiggled his way into my heart. Is it annoying he follows Theo’s orders without question? Yes, but has he always looked out for me and Jonah? Also, yes. Shaking my head as a knot forms in my throat, I work to remove myself from Kwil and Jonah’s limbs.

His story repeats itself in my head as I manage to free myself and slide out of the bed without disturbing either of them.

Theo was, nois, a prince. And his family is in danger. Kwil’s story explains so much. Theo’s desperation to keep moving and to return to the Third Realm, his sneaky behavior when it came to the other Ghosts…

None of this should matter.Iwas the one stabbed, not Theo’s family. Still, I feel my anger starting to ebb away.

My stomach growls so loudly I pause by the door and turn to see if either guy woke up. Nope, still asleep. I leave the room and make my way through the house. As I move down the stairs, I listen for any sign of Viktor or Theo. But the house is silent. Feeling confident that one is asleep, and the other is probably outside watching for any signs of monsters or Ghosts, I stop trying to be quiet. I head towards the kitchen, following the path that Theo took to bring me upstairs.

I walk in to find Theo in a chair at the kitchen table. He has it leaned back so that the front two feet are off the ground while the back of it leans against the wall. His eyes flicker to my face. He doesn’t look surprised to see me. Of course he’s not. He has super hearing. Fucking Fae senses.

I freeze while I try to gauge the expression on his face. There are deep shadows under his eyes, his shirt is disheveled, and his hair is in disarray as if he’s been running his fingers through it. But other than being tired, I can’t read him. Always a closed book. His eyes don’t stray from my face, as if he’s trying to read me, too.

This guy is a prince…

Shaking my head to dispel my awe, I move further into the kitchen, making a beeline for the refrigerator.

“There is nothing in there,” he says. “Viktor is out at the grocery store now.”

I picture Viktor pushing a shopping cart with a sour expression plastered to his face and stifle a snort.

“The only food we have is some bread, crackers, and tea.”

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