Page 22 of Of Blood and Banes
I can’t help but snort as I pat her head. “I’ll see what I can do.”
She nudges me up off the ground and to my feet, then bumps her nose into my lower back.“And don’t come back until you do.”
I recognize her hidden intention as easily as noticing what color the grass is. Her discomfort is fake. She knows it’ll be the prompt I need to leave her out here. Snorting, I playfully pull down one of the small horns on the side of her head in mock scolding. Her pupils dilate to circles, and she shoots her tongue out at me, the tip flicking my cheek before I squeal and backstep out of reach.
No matter what kind of emotional turmoil I’m in, she always manages to pull me out. Gods, even if the prophecy is right and having bonded her means it falls on the two of us to save this realm, I’m so grateful to be hers. My gratitude and attachment to her far outweighs any heavy responsibility for the rest of the world. I find a certain level of peace in the fact that our bond means our lives are intertwined, eliminating the fear of living a life without her.
As I walk back to Midkeep, I think of everyone I’ve met along the way. Their faces flashing through my mind with each step. Everyone who is still alive, at least.
Cole. Archie. Marge. Melaina. Gavin. Nolan. Darian. And now…Sethan, Tawny, and all the people I haven’t yet met in the Dragon Lands. The townspeople who passed me by as I walked the streets of Midkeep.
How, if I deny or refuse to stop the King—they all might die. All their blood will be on my hands. No matter if I love them or hate them, it’s blood all the same. I can hardly stomach and process my brother’s death all those years ago. If the death toll ticks up to hundreds,thousandsof people? I might be the onewho can make a difference—can I really live with myself if I refuse?
The buildings of Midkeep come into view through the treeline, and I slink through the shadows, pausing as I wait for one patrol to disappear into the town. I get halfway through Midkeep before I’m caught. Once the guards recognize who I am and confirm I’m alone, they lower their weapons and escort me back to the healer’s quadrant. I must have a lot more pull than I’m aware of if me sneaking about this late at night only garners me chaperones. Though, I don’t doubt Sethan will hear of it.Not looking forward to that conversation.
“Where have you been?” a voice hisses as I close the healer’s quadrant’s door.
I about jump out of my skin and whirl to the voice. I realize who it is and slowly close my gaped mouth. “Sorry? Did I need to check in with you on where I go?”
“You look dreadful,” Marge states. She’s in a nightgown, standing near the edge of her bed while the rest of the squad slumber peacefully in the background.
I laugh quietly, dripping with sarcasm. “Thanks.”
But the laugh is a hair too loud. Archie stirs in his bed, lifting his head off the pillow with his eyes still closed and hair strewn about like a hawk’s nest. “You’re welcome,” he mumbles in a daze, then flops back over to his other side, slipping back into sleep.
Marge drags her gaze back to me the same time I do her, then whispers, “I don’t mean to be curt…I’m just…I’m worried about you, Katerina.”
I unlace one boot, remove it, and slide it near the bedpost. “Nothing to worry about. I just haven’t slept much. That’s all.”
She scans me head to toe. “Have you been dreaming?”
What an odd-ass question.I balance on my bare foot, swaying around as I try to remove my second boot. “Yes…well, more like nightmares.”
She tilts her head and watches me with a mix of mild curiosity and disappointment in my balancing skills. “My mother used to tell me sometimes dreams are your reality spilling over into your subconsciousness. Pay attention to them—they may know you better than you do.”
Well, then my reality is fucked. And it’s been fucked for a long time. All I’ve dreamt about has been previous traumatic events. Hornwood burning. The little girl and her family perishing. My mother’s manic episodes and my brother drowning.
I place my second boot near the bedpost with the first one. “What did she say about nightmares?”
“Nightmaresaredreams.”
Silence falls between us, until Marge rests a hand on my shoulder. “If you need someone to talk to…I’m here for you. Or you don’t have to tell me. Dreams are personal things. Hold on to them.”
Hold on.I shake my head vigorously to dislodge the two words stuck inside my head. Sucking in a breath, I dip my head. “Thank you, Marge.”
But what canhold onpossibly mean?
CHAPTER 8
HOLD ON
“Kat!” a whisper splits through my sleep. “Kat!”
I drag my eyelids open and stare up at the shadows stretching across the expansive ceiling. A hand is wrapped around my shoulder and shaking me gently. I turn to the voice, and my vision swims from grogginess.
“What?” I murmur, partly confused and dazed.
Cole is kneeling at my bedside, his eyes round with worry. He stops shaking me, but his hand is still tight around my shoulder. “Are you alright?”
