Page 110 of Dark Fate

Part of me knows I need to rein it in, but the words keep spilling out in an acidic torrent fueled by fear and anger—the whispers in my damn head—for the situation she's put us in. We're all in danger now because of her lapse in judgment. No matter how much I wish I could, I can't just shrug it off. The stakes are too high now.

Dani stands her ground, refusing to back down. "You think I don't know that? They were crazy convincing, down to the last detail. In the heat of the moment, I genuinely thought I was doing the right thing." She steps closer, arms folded across her chest. "But hey, if you'd rather stand here chucking petty insults instead of hatching a plan, then be my guest. Go ahead, keep telling me how stupid I am. That's clearly so productive right now." She meets my glare defiantly. "Or we could spend our energy figuring out where those smoke-stacking assholes went and how to kick their asses back out of here. But I guess berating me takes priority. So get it out of your system and then get your head back in the game, Rhyland. Because we've got bigger problems than my screw-up."

We stand there, chests heaving, anger crackling in the scant space between us. I try to keep my temper in check, but the thought of what's coming has me raging, thrashing like a wild beast. And it pisses me off even more that her defiance and that damn bratty mouth are getting me hard.

"Well, this is quite the predicament," Lucian drawls, ever ready with a quip even in a crisis. "I'd say we're up shit creek without a paddle on this one."

I shoot him a withering glance. "Not helping, Lucian."

"Enough," Faderyn interjects firmly. "What's done is done. Arguing will not change it nor help us respond." He looks pointedly between Dani and me. "The Whisperlings are feeding off your emotions, and we need level heads now, not heated tempers."

I release a harsh breath and give a sharp nod. He's onto something. These assholes are cramming my brain with crap, trying to provoke me into turning on Dani. Losing my cool won't scrub away this mess. I crossed the line.

I grit my teeth and shove that mental noise the hell out of my skull. It's a bitch of a fight, but I muscle through until my thoughts are mine again, and I can finally take a damn breath without feeling choked.

"Dani, I'm guessing you were asleep when you went looking for Emily, right?" Faderyn asks.

Dani shrugs. "I don't think so. Felt too real. Why?"

"If you had been wide awake, we would've picked up on it early—Rhyland would've sensed you were up," Faderyn suggests.

Scratching my head in befuddlement, I press, "Spit it out. What are you hinting at?"

Hoisting his bag upon his shoulder, Faderyn thoughtfully observes, "If she indeed accessed her abilities to open a portal whilst, in a state of slumber, it is a testament to her formidable strength. This revelation presents us with many more pressing concerns to consider."

Dani's expression shifts from confusion to sudden insight. "Given how you lot were sawing logs through my scream fest, you might just have a point."

"Can those blasted mind-pokers actually jab into your subconscious?" Lucian asks, his inquiry tinged with a facetious undercurrent.

"That's precisely their aim," Axilya confirms. "They ensnare you in a dream world and hold you captive within it."

Dani's brow furrows, irritation lacing her voice. "Hold on a second—are you telling me I was dreamwalking and popped open a portal? What in the world does that even mean?"

"As I've indicated, the realization that even your subconscious harbors such immense power necessitates that we prioritize our concerns accordingly," Faderyn elucidates.

Honestly, this info's got my head spinning. And now I feel like an even bigger asshole for ripping into Dani when she wasn't conscious—something I promised her I would protect. Faderyn's got a damn good point—My temper got away from me, and I never should've been so rough with Dani. She was just following her damn gut, doing what came naturally. I'm the one at fucking fault here. I know better than most how strong instinct can be.

Axilya steps forward, her expression grave. "Azrael and Adrian are on the loose, which is our darkest fear come to life. We must act quickly before they have an opportunity to strike."

"Agreed," Erik says. "We should rest here for no more than an hour, then be on our way. The longer we linger, the more danger we face."

We fight like we fuck—fierce, unrestrained, full of fire. Our connection only amps up what the other one's feeling, making us wilder. It's a raw, primal dance fueled by passion.

Her slender arms encircle her own frame, a shield she doesn't even goddamn need. "I’m so sorr—"

The world slams into a halt with her half-spoken apology, and I can't—I just fucking can't let that stand. My fingers clamp around her, hauling her to me with all the restraint of a damned hurricane. Our mouths crash together, a cataclysm of lips and unspoken promises. Her apologies slice through me like a blade, and I can't stomach another syllable of guilt from her. Me? I'm the bastard here. My chest is a vault of regret, and she's got no cause to feel any of this shit.

This kiss is more than just a merging of lips—it's the bearing of my soul, every fuck-up I own. It's my silent plea for absolution, wrapped in a feral desire that roars louder than the words I can't find.

"Forgive me?" spills out, raw and ragged, from the depths of my chest, pressed into the sanctity of our kiss.

Then she—my firey angel—kisses me like the world is ending, and this is our last goddamn chance at salvation. "I forgive you," she breathes life into me, her words feather-light, and yet they're everything.

Thank fuck! I can't have her upset with me.

The shadows—that cesspool where I was wallowing—and those godforsaken Whisper bastards gnawing at my sanity need to be drowned out. And she—my angel—she’s my damn lifeline.

"Let me make it up to you," I breathe out the words against her mouth, a murmured vow.

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