Lucille
Chapter
Ten
Before I left the library, Cato gave me his book and told me to read the rest of the chapter before bed, then practice.
That was after he gave me strict instructions not to lose, damage, or give the book to anyone else.
Too astonished that he was letting me take it out of the library in the first place, I readily agreed.
Tomorrow morning, I was to meet him before training and discuss my reading and attempted dream-walking.
I stored those details away for later and slowly walked back to my rooms. Snow pounded against the castle’s gothic windows.
The winter storm covered the view of Hoar Hollow in the distance and even the evergreens that sat closer to the castle.
The sight should’ve satisfied me. My father was in pain.
But I wasn’t as cruel and heartless as him.
I passed a couple castle staff, giving them fake smiles, and rounded the corner to my hall. Rune barreled into me, knocking me back. Her shadow tail coiled with energy, her head bumping into my stomach for pets. “Careful, beastie.”
She nudged me again, and I planted my feet to keep from falling. Snorting, I scratched behind her ears, her shadow fur snaking around my fingers as if to hold me hostage.
“If you’re here, does that mean your angel is around this corner?”
She didn’t react, too busy pressing her head into my hand, her tongue lolling out like a dog.
I contemplated turning around, but I was exhausted, and he would not keep me from bed. Hiding the book behind my back, I continued down the hall. Then froze.
It wasn’t just Ronen I found. Aspen was there too—and they were talking to each other.
Talking may be too kind a word. By their tense shoulders, Ronen’s ticking jaw, and Aspen’s flexing hand, I’d assume it was more of an argument. The urge to turn around before they saw me doubled. But I couldn’t move.
So I stood there with Rune beside me and gave myself twenty seconds to… compare.
There was no question that they were both attractive. One looked like a tall, dark, and handsome storybook prince, even more so now with his shaved face, trimmed hair, and slacks. The other, in similar attire, looked like something out of my forbidden imaginings—a toe-curling, sinful, tattooed god.
I wanted to say they were both different.
In a way, they were. Ronen’s personality was a quiet, unsuspecting force, luring me in with his magnetism.
He was both calm and storm. Unpredictable, dangerous, yet soothing and steadfast. Aspen, by contrast, was roguish and turbulent.
When he came alive, he was vibrant and hopeful.
His dimples creased his face, and he seemed to embody light itself.
Then the Hell Rune would twist him, making him cold and cruel.
Now, I wasn’t sure who he was. Who either of them were.
But like it or not, they were also very much the same.
They were both Hell Runed. They both had done atrocious things. They were both bonded to me. Also, they both hid things from me, manipulated me, and stomped on the shattered pieces of my heart.
As much as my messed-up feelings yearned for them, I was better off without them.
“Lucille, we know you’re there,” they said simultaneously.
Of course they did.
They glared at each other. I rolled my eyes and rubbed Rune’s ear for a touch of comfort before I walked the gauntlet.
Their eyes swallowed my every step. Under their scrutiny, my heart rate increased. It was one thing to have one intense gaze on me, a whole other to have both. I wasn’t sure if I enjoyed or hated it.
Almost to my door, they both looked ready to say something.
So, like any grief-stricken, exhausted, overloaded female would do, I rushed to my door, opened it, then shoved it closed. Only a second went by before I heard a knock and a scratch. I groaned, knowing I couldn’t leave Rune out there.
Quickly, I opened my door, letting her in.
“Lucille—”
“No.” I cut off Ronen, holding up a hand. “And goodnight.”
Then I slammed the door in his face and locked it. If he really wanted to, I imagined his sneaky shadow powers could get him in. But I hoped he was intelligent enough to realize that wouldn’t end well for him.
Once I managed to get the fire crackling in the hearth, eat dinner, and change, I sat on my bed with Cato’s book. Rune settled next to me like the perfect body pillow, warming me to the point I needed to shed my pants and fan the bottom of my camisole. Finally comfortable, I read.
For the first time since knowing I had dream-walking abilities, I learned what to call the four types. They were listed in order from least to most difficult.
Somnivado: to invade someone's dream to learn secrets.
Intraverso: to invade oneself to witness and reexperience your past.
Inviso: to invade the body of another and witness their past.
Praetervado: to invade the past as your present self.
Each level of dream-walking came with unique pitfalls and nuances.
Some, like the nausea with Praetervado, I had experienced for myself.
Cato’s book explained the feeling was caused by your soul bouncing between your two bodies, unsure of which to inhabit.
It also noted that Praetervado was the most dangerous of the four abilities, as it posed the highest risk of altering the future.
To me, that sounded like the best place to start.
But as I tried to skip ahead, the pages wouldn’t budge, as if they were glued together.
“What the hell?”
I grabbed the page I was on and turned it just fine, but then it wouldn’t let me skip to the next one.
So I read through the two pages on Somnivado, and only then did it finally let me flip it.
I thought that was all it’d take for the next pages too, but nope—stuck.
I even reread the section, noting the exercise at the end describing how to test out Somnivado.
“Did Cato rune you or something?” I whispered to the book, tugging on the old pages.
Zap!
I yelped, jerking back and attempting to shake out the burn in my fingers. Cato’s book had just electrocuted me! Rune perked up.
“I’m—” I broke off when I noticed her illuminated eyes.
“Go away!” I snapped at Ronen, throwing a hand up to shield them. I was practically naked, with no blanket to cover me, and fighting with a magical, secretive book.
Yet Rune’s eyes were still illuminated, and she was dodging my hand.
“It was nothing. I’m fine. Leave!”
But both Rune and Ronen were being stubborn asses.
“We had a deal, Rune.”
She obviously didn’t care about the deal when it came to protecting me, but I couldn’t explain the book to Ronen and reveal Cato’s secrets or my plans. It was just a painful zap. I was obviously fine. But that zap, on top of their curiosity, made it clear it’d take more for him to leave.
“Ronen, I swear if you don’t go, I’ll walk to Aspen’s room this second.”
It had the desired effect. The glow of Rune’s eyes dimmed. It also came with some stomach-turning guilt, which only pissed me off. I asked him to leave. He should’ve listened.
I slumped back in bed, glaring at Rune. “That’s strike one. The book wasn’t going to kill me.” At least I didn’t think it was. Angry red lines now branded my fingers.
“Evil thing,” I grumbled and hesitantly poked it.
Zap free, I pulled it back onto my lap and read some more about Somnivado, noting all of Cato’s script in the margins.
Then I continued to his example dream-walks, and my mouth almost dropped.
I hadn’t expected to get a firsthand account of Cato’s own experiences.
The first two examples were as expected.
He wanted the secret to how a renowned angelic writer organized his scrolls and how another prepared his notes.
Boring. But the last example was about a female named Ariella.
He wanted to know her favorite book. I wanted to know who she was, but it didn’t say.
At the end of the chapter, he wrote in a Somnivado exercise.
Hold a question in your mind and let your subconscious flow to the dream realm. Note: Somnivado will only work on the living.
I already knew I’d fail the exercise. All my thoughts and questions these days were about my mom.
So when I found myself in Ronen’s room with a purple halo around my vision, shock was an understatement.
Or maybe it was the fact that he was naked and a dream-version of myself was pinned to his bed with his shadows.