Page 68 of Through the Wicked Wood

Murderer.

Murderer.

Dropping to my knees, I forget the ground beneath me is no longer the soft pad of the forest. The rough grit of the stone rips my breeches at the knee. I feel for my magick. For the now familiar pulse beneath my skin.

No magick. No light. No wolves. No one.

We’ve been waiting for you.

How nice it is to no longer be pushed away.

Pulling my hands from my ears, I rest my back against the stone wall and gaze into the darkness. “Sorin. Samaria. Jarek. Galen. Loxley.” I repeat the names aloud over and over again until the voices in my head settle to a low roar. Still there. But dulled nonetheless. “Sorin. Samaria. Jarek. Galen.” I let out a shaky breath, bringing my knees to my chest.

If this is my test, my payment to get the others through safely, then by any means necessary, I will not fail.

Chapter 34

Elora

Wouldn’t it be nice to see them again.

To feel them.

Let us take you to them, Elora.

The voices slam into me repeatedly as I force myself up from the ground. Echoing louder and louder with each breath I struggle to take. Shaking my head, I steady myself against the wall as another voice drips into my ears.

Use your daggers, Elora.

End this now.

My hands are no longer mine as my fingers brush against the hilts of my daggers in response. Using all my strength, I pull my hands from the blades, the unseen resistance yanks them back in a tug of war of will. I gasp as I take back control of my hands, planting them firmly on the wall.

“I will not break for you.” I’m not sure who I’m talking to. No one. Everyone. I grit my teeth as the voices explode in a violent rage. My mother’s voice. Cade’s voice. The guard’s voice. Grawgeth’s. All mixed into one.

Weak.

Broken.

Useless.

You killed them.

Killed them.

Killed them.

Killed US.

My throat becomes hoarse from screaming as I push my hands against my ears. “Stop, stop, STOP!” I scream.

Then, in an instant, they do.

Terrifying, deafening, silence hangs around me. For minutes, I stay completely still. Hands pressed firmly against my ears. Slowly, I peel my hands away, letting them hang loosely at my sides. The taste of salt hits my tongue as I lick my dry, cracked lips. Tears I didn’t realize had fallen. The darkness and tightness of the stone cage disorients any concept of time. Have I been here minutes? Hours? My terror from the voices subsides momentarily as anger quickly takes over, swift and smooth.

“Is that all you’ve got!” I scream into nothing, balling my fists and slamming them against the stone wall. Whatever is next, I’ll be ready.

At least, I thought I would be.

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