Page 86 of Silent Lucidity

She turned and ran; only a few strides brought her into the shadow-shrouded wall. She slid her hands over its surface, searching for a door, a seam, a button,anythingto indicate an exit.

There was nothing.

That was when she felt it— the brush of a cold finger through her mind, sifting her thoughts and leaving her momentarily confused. A shiver raced down her spine.

“Sit and relax, and this will be over quickly,” said the Master.

Panic flaring, Abella spun around to find the Master directly in front of her. She stopped herself just before colliding with him and tilted her head back. His mask swirled with darkness so deep that it suggested light was merely an illusion, a figment of her imagination, and she felt that darkness staring at her, staringintoher.

“No,” she said, pressing back against the wall. She eased along it, slowly, her arm outstretched, continuing her search for a means of escape.

“Tell me about your relationship with Tenthil.”

Abella glared up at him and pressed her lips together. She’d given so much of herself to Cullion, had caved to so many of his demands, but she refused to give in now. She would never betray Tenthil. She would never betray their love.

Though the Master stood unmoving, his presence in Abella’s mind strengthened; it felt like his hands, with their cold, spindly fingers, had plunged into her head to sort through her memories like he was browsing a collection of books in search of something interesting.

She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her teeth, straining against the invasion. A dull throbbing resonated inside her skull. Despite her struggles, despite her expenditure of willpower, her thoughts drifted toward Tenthil. Her memories of their time together played in her mind as though she were watching a movie. Their first dance, their conversations, their caresses, their kisses, and every detail of their lovemaking—it was all there, laid bare.

I feel it inside. I recognize it in your scent. You are my mate.

“Hismate?” the Master asked. “I knew you were important to my misguided disciple, but I underestimated his connection to you. Two animals maddened by one another’s scent. It almost makes me regret what I must do.”

“What thefuckare you?” Abella gritted. The pain in her head sharpened with each second of his continued intrusion. She lifted her hands, pressing them over her temples. “Get out of my head!”

“I thought you were a symptom of his behavioral issues,” the Master said.

The pressure increased, threatening to split her skull open. She dropped to her knees with an agonized cry.

“I thought I had forced those bestial instincts out of him, that I had created a being above the control of such primal urges,” he continued, “but they were lying dormant all along. He may have hidden them for a time, butnothingremains hidden to me forever.”

“Leave himalone,” Abella rasped, glaring up at the being before her. Another wave of pain doubled her over. She dropped her hands, catching herself before she struck the floor face first.

The Master’s icy touch receded slightly from her mind. “A spirited creature. I wonder—”

Abella leapt to her feet and swung her arm, slamming her fist against his mask.

His head snapped to the side, and the mask clattered to the stone floor. Before she could recover from her attack, he backhanded her across the face, sending her reeling. Fire crackled across her cheek, and her back slammed against the wall. A coppery taste spread over her tongue. But she kept on her feet. She’d suffered worse in Cullion’sdiscipline room.

Abella tilted her chin up and looked into the bared face of the being who wanted to kill her and her mate. She inhaled sharply.

The Master’s skin was white, and strands of straight, black hair hung over his angular cheekbones. His lips, nearly as dark as his hair, were pressed into a tight line, and his hairless brows were angled downward. Healmostlooked human, almost looked handsome—were it not for his eyes.

His sclerae were jet black, his irises blood red, and three extra pairs of eyes, each a little smaller than the last, stared at her from his forehead—the eyes of a hungry spider.

“It has been a long while since anyone saw my face,” he said, his cold expression unchanging, “and longer still since anyone has surprised me. You are afascinatingcreature. I will have to look more closely at your kind after you are gone. You might have made a talented acolyte.”

Moving with a casualness that belied the situation, he walked to his mask, he bent forward, and plucked it off the floor.

Abella remained still, chest heaving with anxious, terrified breaths. She was terrified, but she wouldn’t show it—she’d spent the last four years afraid, and it had never stopped her from seeking freedom. She understood this situation, understood her circumstances.

To Cullion, she’d been an animal in need of discipline. A wing-clipped canary in a gilded cage. Favored by her owner but not exempt from his preference for beatings. But here…here, she wasn’t even an animal. She was the bait meant to lure an animal into a trap. She was meant to lead the man she loved to his death.

The Master straightened and held the mask aloft on his palm, regarding it. “Perhaps I will gift him with this final secret when he comes. Let him know the face of the one who made him.”

“He’s going to kill you,” Abella said.

The Master turned his head toward her, his expression suddenly disinterested. “His name has already been whispered to the Void. His fate is sealed. But there are secrets in your mind that have not yet been offered, little human. Shall we search them out together? Shall I begin learning about yourhumanswhile we await your beloved?”

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