Chapter 13
I let it take me.
I let the darkness pull me under.
Fire consumed everything. I thrashed against invisible bonds, my skin blistered and cracked.
My lungs seized as smoke filled them, each breath burning my throat.
I mauled at the scorching air, my nails tearing in bloody stripes as the flames climbed higher, devouring me one excruciating inch at a time.
The stench of my own burnt hair clogged my nostrils while sweat flash-boiled on my skin, leaving behind acidic trails of salt.
“Dalkhan, please!”
I stretched my arm toward him, shoulder dislocating with a wet pop.
He stood motionless. Watching. Drinking in my torment.
The muscles in my arm tore, tendons standing out like ropes. His face remained etched in cold fury, memorising every twitch of pain that crossed my features.
No.
“Dalkhan!” The scream erupted from me as the heat pressed against my face like a physical hand, choking me. Squeezing tears from my eyes that hissed into steam before they could fall.
I jumped upright—air rushing back into my starved lungs. I clutched my neck, my rapid pulse hammering beneath my fingertips.
The door slammed open with such force it bounced against the wall.
Tavrik bolted in, eyes wild as they swept over every shadow, every corner. Hunting for threats that existed only in my mind. When his gaze finally landed on me, relief flashed across his features before worry took its place.
“Are you okay?” He crossed the room in three long strides, his hands immediately roaming over my arms and shoulders.
Theo crowded in behind him. “Is she okay?”
Tavrik snapped back toward him, his jaw tight. “She seems fine, but—”
I shoved the damp tangle of hair from my face. “I’m right here, you know.” My voice was raw, as if I’d truly been screaming for hours.
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. My bare feet against the cold floor sent a shock through my system.
“It was a bad dream.”
Theo stepped closer, his shadow falling across me. “El…” he hesitated, exchanging a look with Tavrik. “Your scream shook the walls.”
They both stared at me like I’d summoned something from the abyss.
“I doubt that.” The words sounded hollow even to my own ears. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
I pushed off the bed. My legs wobbled, but I forced them to steady, I needed to move. Needed space.
I took two steps before Tavrik caught my elbow.
“We don’t care about that. We’re worried about you.” His grip tightened, not enough to hurt, but enough to keep me from fleeing. “I’m starting to think these ‘dreams’ are more than just that. You’re not telling us everything.”
He wasn’t wrong.
I never told them what I truly saw—what I truly felt. Maybe because I didn’t want to believe it myself. Maybe I was still holding on to hope that one day, they would just… stop.
But they weren’t stopping. They were getting worse.
I sank back onto the bed.
So, I told them everything. Every agonising detail. I traced patterns on the pillow as I spoke, unable to meet their eyes. My voice dropped to a whisper as I described the smell of my own burning flesh.
Tavrik started pacing, his hands raking through his hair repeatedly. Theo’s thumb pressed into the knot in my shoulder.
“That’s what you’ve been dealing with?” he asked. “Every time you sleep?”
I forced my mouth into what might’ve been a smile, though the corners were already twitching downward.
“Pretty much.”
Tavrik, who had been wearing a path in the stone, halted mid-step. His face lit up, like he’d remembered something long buried. “I’ve heard of this before.”
Theo and I both turned to him. “What do you mean?” I asked.
“Dream Weavers.”
The name hung in the silent room.
“What?” Theo frowned. “What does that even mean?”
“Dream Weavers are Jinn,” Tavrik said. “They don’t just manipulate dreams; they make them real. They weave illusions so powerful, your mind and body experience them as truth.”
A chill crept down my spine, raising goosebumps along my arms.
A Jinn.
I shook my head. “So, a Jinn has been weaving my dreams… for what? To torture me?”
Shadows deepened the hollows of Tavrik’s face.
“It can’t be just any Jinn,” he said. “That kind of power only belongs to the strongest.”
I pressed my palm flat against my abdomen, my stomach in knots.
Who would do this?
Dalkhan’s face flashed through my mind—those cold, merciless eyes watching me burn.
No. It can’t be.
My thoughts began to spiral, faster and faster until the room tilted.
“I need a moment,” I muttered, pushing up from the bed. My head spun slightly, the room still feeling unsteady.
Tavrik froze, but after a beat, he nodded. Theo shot me one last lingering look before following him out.
The door shut with a soft click.
I stepped into the bathing chamber, pausing as tendrils of scented oils curled around me. It no longer smelled like him. No trace of oud, no lingering warmth of fire kissing the air. The absence struck sharp and deep.
It shouldn’t have mattered, but it did. Heavens, it mattered more than I could bear to admit.
Steam billowed up in thick clouds as I submerged my entire body into the scalding water. I hissed as the burn crawled across my rapidly reddening skin. I welcomed the pain, letting the fierce heat strip away the torment clinging to me.
I pressed my head back against the rim, staring at the ceiling. I refused to close my eyes because every time I did, his face materialised in the darkness.
His disappointment. His fury.
Zaheera’s warning about my mother echoed in my ears, a persistent whisper of dread.
She needed me. More than ever.
Yet here I sat, trapped in this cursed place. Tangled in a game I never wanted to play.
I climbed out the bath, water dripping down my limbs as I reached for the linen wrap. I fumbled, barely managing to clutch it around my damp skin as I padded across the cold floor.
Mira had already set out clothes for me, folded with meticulous precision, but wasn’t there herself. Relief washed over me, the last thing I wanted was to force my features into a mask of composure while she fussed over me.
I dressed quickly. The garments bunched awkwardly at the waist where Mira would have normally tied them for me. My thoughts churned like turbulent waters, and my feet carried me to Theo’s door of their own accord.
I rapped my knuckles against the wood in three sharp taps.
A second later, the door creaked open. Theo’s face appeared in the gap, eyes heavy-lidded but brightening at the sight of me.
“No Jinn in my bed, if that’s what you’re checking for.”
I shouldered past him, neck craning as I scanned every shadow and corner for unexpected company. Satisfied, I shut the door softly behind me.
I perched on the edge of his mattress, hands curled in my lap. My fingers twisting and untwisting as I tried to form words that were too heavy for my mouth.
Theo settled beside me, his usual teasing demeanour replaced by quiet concern. His brows drew together as he searched my face.
“What’s wrong?”
The lump in my throat was like swallowing broken glass.
“I miss her, Theo.”
His expression softened. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, gripping firmly as he pulled me into his warmth. I nestled against him, his steady heartbeat thrumming against my cheek.
“I just wish I knew if she was okay,” I choked out. “I would die if something happened to her. She’s all alone, Theo.”
I searched his eyes, desperate for some kind of reassurance, but only found a reflection of my own sorrow. He didn’t offer hollow promises. Instead, he held me close, threading his fingers through my damp hair. Tears spilled hot and fast down my cheeks, soaking into his shirt.
He became my shelter, letting me break against him without trying to piece me back together.
There were no words that could get rid of the ache in my chest, but Theo’s presence—his quiet comfort, was enough.
He spoke softly against my hair. “She loves you more than anything in this world. I know she’ll be there when we return. Safe and waiting with open arms and that smile that makes even the sourest of merchants crack a grin.”
His lips brushed the crown of my head, the gentle press guarding my heart like armour.
Theo, in an effort to lighten the mood, started reminiscing about all the times we had gotten in trouble with my mother. Laughing about the ridiculous punishments and scoldings we’d endured.
The stories eased the heaviness in my chest, if only for a moment.
Tavrik appeared in the doorway sometime later, drawn in by the sound of our muffled laughter. He settled into the chair across from us, sharing tales of his own mischief.
There was something about him—something that lingered in the depths of his eyes that he’d never given voice to.
I wound a lock of hair around my finger, muscles twisting with nervous energy.
“Tavrik,” I hesitated, tongue darting out to wet my lips. “What made you leave the king’s Guard?”
The light drained from his face. A change rippled through him, his posture taut as he studied me.
“It wasn’t a decision I made lightly,” he began.
“The Guard was my life for twenty years. We were brothers, bound by oath and blood spilled together.” He looked past me, seeing beyond the walls of the room.
“I was fiercely loyal, even when doubts festered in the corners of my mind. Even when I questioned whether or not what we enforced was truly right.”
He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward.
“There were so many things we were made to witness. To ignore. But there was one night that destroyed everything I thought I knew.” His fingers drummed a nervous pattern on his thigh.
“I was stationed within the king’s palace when I heard something that broke me completely. ”
A visible shudder passed through him, rippling across his broad shoulders. “Screams. A woman’s screams.”