Page 68 of The Eighth Isle

But I hadn’t. After Grey and Syra, I’d lay down on the bed exactly as I had been, fully dressed. Now my clothes were gone, and…

“Holy shit,” I whispered when I realized the doors of the big wardrobe against the wall were open, and it was full of clothes.

I went closer to it slowly, afraid something might jump out and eat me any second. My hand shook as I reached for the white and pale pink and yellow fabrics on the hangers, and they were real. Dresses, some short and some long, and in the first drawer below were panties and bras and undergarments. In the second were shoes, flat shoes, three pairs of them, white and with ribbons in the front, exactly my size.

No, I hadn’t taken my clothes off last night at all—it had been Syra. She’d stripped me naked and had left me with nothing but these ridiculous dresses to wear, knowing I’d have no choice but to put them on.

My instinct was to cry. Fuck, I wanted to sit there naked and cry my eyes out, out of anger, then burn all these dresses out of spite—but the reasonable part of me knew that I wouldn’t be gaining anything by it. If anything, I’d just be angering her further. If she was angry, she’d hurt me, and I had no problem with that, but I wasn’t alone in my body now, was I?

Baby.

Bile rose up my throat, and I closed my hands around my mouth, squeezing my eyes shut.

No, I couldn’t let Syra hurt me. I couldn’t let her hurt Grey, either. And I wanted to see him. I wanted to see if there wereways to leave this castle while it was still daylight, so in the end, I caved.

In the end, I surrendered and put a goddamn dress on.

It was white and it flared from the waist down and it fit me perfectly. The straps tied over my shoulders in pretty ribbons and the shoes melted onto my feet like a second skin, too. All my energy went intonotletting those tears get the best of me because I would not cry. At least not yet. No idea what time it was, but judging by the sun in the sky, it was still early in the morning, and I would not be defeated before the day had properly even begun. I still had work to do.

And then I opened the door to walk out.

Lamps on the walls near large paintings. Small tables at the corners with silver candle holders and vases with fresh, colorful flowers. Mirrors behind them. A thick brown carpet on the floor, and the stone walls lookedwarmsomehow. Different.

Everything looked so fucking different that I was already doubting my sanity.

Hadn’t this hallway been completely empty just last night? What the hell was all of this?!

My legs carried me forward, and at least I wasn’t thinking about crying anymore. I was too curious to see what more had changed in this place, and the answer waseverything.

I turned corner after corner to find the hallways fully set with decorations and lamps and chandeliers, carpets—and even a few windows with glass in them. A few doors as well, thick and wooden, just like the one to the room I’d slept in.

Then I felt the magic.

It was easy to identify it as Syra’s. I’d never before felt any other magic like it, so strong and buzzing with energy, so raw. Following it was easy even though my legs were slightly shaking because I knew Grey would be with her.

He was—and so was Valentine.

“Come in, come in, lovely. Good morning!” Syra sang while I was still processing the view.

Two doors were to the sides, doors that hadn’t been there the day before when I’d woken up in that room, sitting on a chair at a fully set table. The dining room was now completely furnished, and it looked so bright with all that sunlight streaming through the brand-new glass of the windows.

All of them sat around the table—Syra at the head—and they were eating. They had food on their plates and coffee in their cups, and they were watching me as I stepped in, too shocked still to say a single thing.

Grey was there. He sat a seat down from Syra to her left, while Valentine sat on her right, looking flawless with his hair combed back, his cheeks shaved and his skin clean, the black shirt on him pressed to perfection.

Meanwhile Grey, though clean and dressed as well, looked awful. His eyes were two black orbs and they told me exactly how he felt to be forced to sit there, to not be able to grab me and take me away from this hell right now.

It’s okay,I tried to tell him with my eyes. It was fine, we’d figure it out. So long as I got to see him, I had no trouble being here a little longer. So long as I got to see with my own eyes that he was okay, that he wasn’t being hurt, I could behave while Syra was around.

“Good morning,” I choked out as I went closer.

“Don’t be rude, boys. Saygood morningto the lovely Fall,” Syra said, and both Valentine and Grey said the words at the same time.

Valentine chewed his food, completely at ease as he watched me, looking down at my dress, then up at my face again before he grabbed his cup and took a sip of his coffee.

He made me fucking sick.

“Come, Fall. Sit. Right here, close to me.” And she patted the free chair to her side, with Grey sitting on the other.

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