Page 30 of Cruelly Fated
“Yes. Now lie still and let her do her thing,” Valor said, handing me a piece of folded paper. “I wrote down the item I want you to locate.”
I scanned the paper and nodded, then cracked my knuckles.
“Whoa, is she gonna beat me up? I don’t fight women. Only tie them up,” Rhylan said, his expression oddly serious for someone sprawled across my couch like a frat-house king.
“I’ll make sure she doesn’t lay her tiny pinky on you. Relax.” Valor pressed a hand to the wolf’s shoulder, pinning him down, then gave me a nod.
I exhaled slowly and locked eyes with Rhylan. His were bright blue and hazy with leftover booze.
Mist curled around me. Soft female giggles echoed and then ebbed into silence.
“Rhylan,” a motherly voice called.
Warm breath skimmed my ear. I turned instinctively, searching for its source.
The mist parted.
I was on a football field. A helmeted opponent charged straight at me. I lifted my arms in pure reflex.
“Stop!” I yelled and the memory froze. I stepped back, turning around.
Rhylan’s eyes, still locked on me, narrowed in confusion. “You’re not supposed to be here,” he slurred, though his body stayed frozen mid-game.
“I’m not,” I agreed with a shrug. “Where can I find a tooth pendant?”
His brows furrowed. The scene around us melted and flickered to a team locker room, his cluttered dorm, back to the field, bleachers, a party…as if I was hitchhiking down his memory lane.
Then finally came a pause.
We faced what looked like a quiet, academic office. Rhylan knocked on the door, strolled in, and while seated, threw his feet onto the desk like he owned the place. A woman in her forties swatted at his sneakers and extended her hand. He handed her a small object, and without hesitation, she tossed it into her drawer and waved him off.
I traveled backward through the fog, nausea clawing at my stomach. Valor caught me before I hit the floor and guided me into Grandpa’s oversized rocking chair.
“Did it work?” he asked, crouching infront of me.
“I think so,” I said, cradling my head. “He gave it to a professor—pretty, slim, maybe mid-forties. She had a psychology tome open on her desk.”
“Are you alright?”
“Uh…it feels weird. I got pulled into his memories without projecting an illusion. I’ve never done it like that before. Honestly, until yesterday, I didn’t even know I could pry into someone’s head.”
The dull ache in my skull finally began to subside, draining away like static. Valor pressed a cold glass of water into my hands, and I drank greedily.
On the couch, Rhylan stirred and mumbled something incoherent. He must’ve passed out while I went memory-hopping through his hungover brain.
“Did I pass?” I asked.
“With flying colors,” Valor smirked. His gaze swept the room, lingering on the old furniture, the threadbare rug, the kitchen sink piled with dishes. His brows pinched. I could guess what he was thinking—definitely not somewhere a man like him would ever call home. Then his shrewd eyes landed back on me.
“My driver will be here at five tomorrow with your dress and shoes. I’ve already spoken with Larry. You have the day off, and yes—you’re getting paid.”
I blinked. Did he say a dress? Shoes?
“I have nice dresses,” I said. Technically, they were my mom’s, but we were the same size, and a few of them were stunning. Vintage but elegant.
“I don’t doubt that. But to look the part—as my date—everyone will expect you in designer everything. And trust me, they’ll know the difference,” Valor said with a smile meant to soften the blow to my ego.
I clamped my mouth shut. Fine. I could do it for one night.
