Page 103 of Of Wind and Terror

“I didn’t know you had a sense of humor.”

“Who said I’m joking?”

Treyton rolls his eyes, but I see his lips begin to quirk at the corners.

I may not have forgiven the bastard…

But he’s growing on me.

Like mold.

Or cancer.

39

KASSANDRA

The atmosphere is tense the following morning. I can practically taste it on my tongue—flaky ash combined with something akin to mildew. It leaves a bitter, chalky taste behind.

There’s so much I have to discuss with these males, but I don’t even know where to start.

With Treyton’s confession?

Blaze’s?

Or maybe my strange dreams and the things I was told in them?

Gaia, I can’t stop thinking about Draven’s…I mean, Sylvan’s parting words.

Was the Summer royal family somehow infected by Chaos? How is that even possible? Does it have anything to do with Patric and the mark on my arm?

And then there’s the knowledge that the Day Prince has the real Draven and Calan held hostage.

How long does he plan to keep them? What is his goal?

Question after question dances through my mind like tumbleweeds.

As soon as we arrive at the Fall castle and are safe, I’ll tell the three of them everything. There’s no point in burying my head in the sand.

My dreams… They’re not just dreams or figments of my imagination. They’re real and terrifying, and if what Sylvan says is true…

The entire world is falling to shit.

First, we have to escape this Gaiaforsaken Forest.

Treyton, Blaze, and Aleksander have also been abnormally quiet. The former remains near the back of our group, his head lowered in a way that obscures his face from view. He must’ve changed into one of the spare sets of clothes during the night. Instead of a loose-fitting white shirt, he wears one that covers both his arms and neck. He’s probably sweltering in the summer heat, but he doesn’t complain.

Blaze is tense, every muscle in his massive body locked tight. Lethal savagery radiates from his hazel eyes as he surveys the Forest.

And Aleksander?

He’s singing.

“And the bodies fall, fall, fall. Down the hole, hole, hole. To hell, hell, hell.”

“Can you not sing such a fucked-up song?” Blaze finally snaps after we've walked for just under half a day.

The elf shrugs unrepentantly and twirls his dagger. “It’s a classic of my homeland. Popular bedtime song.”

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