Page 10 of Veiled Yearning

I used to be stronger than this.

Before, I wouldn’t have run away. I wouldn’t have fled to the woods like they would magically protect me from the terrible memories. I would have shored up my defenses and stood my ground.

I would have given Gavril a firm no and shown him the door, adding a stern lecture before he left about touching women without their permission.

It was only my arm, and he didn’t hurt me, but still. He should know better.

Then again, if I weren’t so weak, the horrible things I saw in Gavril’s vision wouldn’t have affected me like this.

I could have handled it, instead of running like a frightened child.

I’ve been wandering through the woods for over an hour, coated with snow and numb with cold, but it hasn’t done a thing to ease the blazing pain inside me.

Anger. Fear. Hopelessness.

As soon as I saw Gavril’s vision, it was like I was back in that warehouse again. It wasn’t Nylah in the vision, but me. The Custodians cutting me, hitting me, burning me…

I don’t want to think about it.

But I can’t stop.

Damn.

How can I doom Nylah to that fate? It already happened to me, but there’s still a chance for her. For Sam. If I do what Gavril wants, it’s possible the future could be changed.

Maybe I was being intentionally ignorant, believing that what I went through was a rare occurrence. But it made sense—my ability is more powerful than most, even though I wish so badly it wasn’t. For the Custodians to want to capture me and force me to make magical weapons for them? It was terrible, but I understood it.

Except.

I should have thought about it more, instead of trying to shove the memories away.

Why would they stop with me? And why would the Custodians want the weapons? Shielding talismans? Do they have any idea of the other things I can do?

I don’t want to go back to Gavril and admit he’s right.

I wish I could go back and unsee everything he showed me.

But I can’t, and I know what that means. As terrified as I am of leaving, there’s no other choice. Despite the terror clawing at my chest and my heart tripping along at triple speed, I’m going to agree to go with Gavril to help the Sentinels.

Returning to my cabin, I’m not sure what to expect.

It’s too much to expect Gavril to have given up and left; and at this point, I’d have to follow him, anyway. My conscience won’t let me hide my head in the sand anymore.

Will he be pacing around my small living room, a towering figure looming over all my cozy furniture, glowering when I walk through the door?

Or will he keep trying to convince me, threatening to force more visions on me?

Of all the options, the reality is far more shocking.

It’s a picture of domesticity. Gavril is reclining on the couch with an open book in his lap. The fireplace is aglow with leaping flames, and the room is quiet except for the faint crackle of sparking embers. He looks over at me with an odd expression, not the confident one he arrived with, but more uncertain. As his gaze sweeps across my body, his brow wrinkles and his lips press into an unhappy line.

“You’re covered in snow,” he states unnecessarily, his mouth pulling down even further. “And your lips are blue.”

“Yes.” I brush off my sweater and give my hair a brisk shake, sending a fresh flurry of snow to the floor. “It’s snowing. And cold.”

Gavril watches as I pull my shoes off, exposing soaking wet socks beneath. “You’re lucky you’re a vampire,” he grumbles, “or you’d lose some toes after being out there so long without real boots.”

Crossing over to the fireplace, I settle down on the floor and peel my socks off, then put my feet as close to the fire as possible without burning them. Casting him a sour glance, I reply, “I wasn’t exactly planning on going for a walk during a blizzard.”

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