Page 52 of A Shadow of Betrayal

“No, I was only… never mind. Stay here. I'll go get us some firewood and be back in a few,” he answers, striding right back out into the snow before I can say another word.

TWENTY-SIX

Meyer

“Right… uh, good luck,” I shout and shake my head, looking around the cave to find a spot where I can sit down. My teeth are chattering so badly I’m having difficulty seeing anything, and my legs feel like jello. I take a step forward and curse when my feet scream in agony.

Looking down, I grimace at the purple color that tints the tips of my toes and hope that frostbite won’t follow me back into real life. I would think I’m fine. The only time I've ever kept a dream injury was when a Demon inflicted it, but my dreams are so out of control that I can't be sure of anything anymore.

I limp over to the side of the cave, pressing my back against the frigid wall, and carefully slide down before tucking my feet into the frozen fabric of the blue dress. I glare at the fabric, hating it more than ever, wishing I had some pants and a good pair of shoes I could run around in.

Wrapping my arms around my knees, I stare out the mouth of the cave, watching the snow while hoping the stranger returns soon with supplies to build a fire. Though, I’m not sure how he'll be able to find any wood to burn. But at this point, I’m too tired to care. I can hear the distant howls of demons, the eerie sound barely discernible through the storm raging outside. I briefly wonder if the man is okay out there alone, but then remember how he took out the Demons on his own, which calms me down. If anything, I think I should be worried about a Demon finding me here before the guy can come back. I’m far too cold to defend myself right now, and I don’t have any weapons.

“Found some stuff,” the familiar baritone voice says, startling me enough that I gasp and jerk back, hitting my head on the cold stone of the cave wall. The guy looks up from his arm full of what looks like small branches and sticks, frowning. “Are you alright?” I nod, wincing as I rub the back of my head. I watch as he shifts the sticks in his arms to one side and uses his free hand to yank off several black onyx rings and line the entrance.

“Yeah. Will that keep them out?” I ask nervously, knowing onyx helps but not sure if that will be enough. I wish I had some salt or some Rosemary.

“It will deter them. I wouldn't worry about it if it weren't dark out. They are always more active when the sun goes down,” the man grumbles, moving away from the opening of the cave.

“Why the nighttime? I mean, I've seen them during the day, but they like to stay in the shadows,” I murmur, and the man nods.

“The Beastia are nocturnal creatures. Their eyes have a hard time adjusting to light, so they tend to stay hidden during daylight hours.”

“That makes sense,” I muse out loud, then nod to the branches in his arms. “Where did you find those?” I ask, my voice raspy as the guy drops the branches near the mouth of the cave and starts to build a fire.

“There were a handful of big bushes we passed by to get here. They were thick enough that there was some somewhat dry foliage and sticks on the ground under the bigger branches. Let's hope it works,” he adds as he reaches back and grabs some stones I hadn't seen moments before. I watch with bated breath as he works to get the fire started, trying several times before the smallest of flames sparks to life.

I lean forward, desperate to feel the heat on my skin as the guy guards the small flame with his hands, waiting for it to grow so that the wind circling the very front of the cave doesn't blow it out. After it triples in size, the guy pulls his hands back and slowly adds a few more branches, making the fire grow enough for me to feel it. I grin at the small dancing flame and scooch forward, stretching out my hands and feet so that they can warm up.

“There. That should last for a while. Hopefully, you wake up before I run out of sticks,” he frowns, eyeing the small pile next to him.

“Who are you?” I blurt out, looking up and blushing a little when he arches a brow, a smirk playing on his lips at my sudden question. “I mean… How are you in my dreams? You're a Hunter, right? That green magic… I’ve seen it used by some of the Seniors,” I explain and watch as his eyes darken in anger.

“You’re a Hunter?” the man asks, shock filling his expression when I nod, rubbing my hands together, and watch as he regards me carefully. “What’s your name, Mi Sol?” he asks softly.

“Meyer, and yours?”

“Valen,” he whispers, and I smile, looking him over. I can't help but think the name suits him. It's manly but not overly so. Something I would imagine a Fae king would be named. Valen frowns, running a hand through his hair, almost like he’s frustrated, as he looks from me to the fire. “What part of the Umbras do you belong to?” he asks, making me frown in confusion. “What continent are you on?”

“Oh! North America. I’m up at the castle in Canada. I’m a Ranger there,” I explain, and the man nods.

“Canada, huh? I haven't been there before,” he muses, frowning again as he walks around our small fire and sits a few feet from me. The yellow and orange flames reflect off his almost white hair and pale skin, making him look like he’s glowing with warm light.

“Where are you from?” I ask, watching him closely as he stares into the fire.

“I was at the Rift in the veil in Europe when I was taken. I’m not sure where I am now,” he admits quietly.

“You… you don’t know where you are?” I ask, and the guy shakes his head, looking upset. “I’m confused. How do you not know where you are, and how are you in my dreams?”

“I don’t know. The last thing I remember is getting attacked at the Rift. There were Beastia and Hunters everywhere, then nothing. It was black for so long… I don’t… I’m not sure how long it's been. But then, a few days ago, a small light flickered in the darkness, and I followed it.” Valen looks up from the fire and stares at me. “You were there. In what I thought was my dreamscape,” he explains. “It was the first time I had seen sunlight in forever…” Valen trails off with a small smile on his full pink lips, but it dims quickly. “But then you left, and I realized you had called me into your dreams. Everything went dark again. No matter how hard I tried to stay.”

“I did what now?” I ask in a squeaky voice, shaking my head in denial. “I… How did I call you into my dreams? And what's the Rift?”

Valen shrugs and smiles. “The Rift is the thin spots in the veil between the worlds. It’s what separates Earth from the Demon realm. And I don’t know how you called me. But I’m glad you did. The darkness… the black ocean I’ve been stuck in,” Valen looks down at his hands as he wrings them in his lap. “It's been… lonely,” he says with a small sigh. Almost like a cloud, sadness envelops him and makes my heart break a little for this man I just met.

“You don’t know how long you've been,” I shrug, trying to think of the right word. “Lost?” I finally say, and Valen shakes his head.

“A long time, I think. But time stops when there is nothing to gauge it by,” he admits.

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