Chapter Fifty-Five #3
Sebastian is suddenly beside me. Saying something in my ear as he picks me up and runs.
I’m briefly aware of him taking us to the shadowy alcove of the broken tower.
He’s speaking, but I can’t hear him – I’m too focused on the blood starting to dribble from Achātēs’ mouth.
He coughs, and splutters. More green veins tear up his throat.
What the fuck is on those blades? Why is he reacting like that?
‘Arianell!’ Sebastian shakes me, grabbing my shoulders.
I finally look at him. Really look at him, at the apprehension in his eyes. ‘You need to leave, I don’t want you to watch what I’m about to do. I need you to run and find Nicks. Everyone will return soon, if they’re not already on their way. You cannot be found here, do you understand?’
‘W-what are you going to do? Is he dying?’ I ask, breathless. My eyes dart past him to find Achātēs dropping to his knees. Coughing blood onto the stone.
Sebastian grabs my face in his palms. ‘Look at me!’ He pulls my attention back to him. ‘Listen to me, sweetheart. Your brother was found in this room, on a night like this and look at what happened to him. I cannot let you walk the same path as him. I won’t survive it.’
My chest twinges in pain.
‘Please, as soon as I say – I need you to run, and don’t stop until you’re in the Training Centre. Once you’re there, you wait for Nicks. Lock yourself in his office and do not answer to anyone but him. Got it?’
I nod, reluctantly. Even though every part of me screams at me in protest. Telling me not to leave him, to stay by his side and not turn away from whatever he’s about to do.
I don’t care if it’s ugly or horrific. I’ve seen it all anyway and what I haven’t seen, I’ve imagined in my own mind.
I’m not afraid of him, or any of the darkness he might want to shield me from.
But I see the fear in his eyes – fear for me.
For what might happen if I’m found covered in blood with a dead headmaster on the cold ground.
Sebastian lowers his lips to mine; a trembling breath skitters along the seam of my mouth before he kisses me. Soft and desperate. I kiss him back, pouring my heart into it, hoping he can feel how scared I was to lose him.
The kiss isn’t rushed or feverish. It’s gentle. Loving. His large hands reach up and tenderly touch my jaw. His thumbs sweep beneath my eyes, over the swells of my cheeks until he lowers his forehead to mine.
His lashes flutter as he holds his eyes closed, breathing with me in this shadowy enclave.
Suddenly the stone at my back seems to tremble faintly, and a muffled humming vibrates against my skin. My brows furrow. Sebastian pulls back. He must feel it too.
It feels … it feels like it’s coming from behind me – from within the wall.
When I suddenly get tugged backward an inch, I gasp loudly.
Everything next seems to happen in slow motion.
The confused look in Sebastian’s eyes. The tugging sensation behind me that suddenly grows stronger as Sebastian wraps his fingers around my biceps, holding onto me.
It too, wraps itself around me like hands are reaching through the wall to pull me into it.
Away from him. The sensation pulsates, digging into the wound on my shoulder, eliciting a new flow of blood that seeps against the wall.
It yanks and yanks, until I feel myself being sucked inside the wall and ripped out of Sebastian’s hands.
His eyes, like green embers, are the last thing I see before I scream his name and fall.
My body tumbles through darkness. I can’t decipher which way is up and eerily, this feels just like when I first went through Malachite’s gate. Although, this falling sensation lasts so much longer.
I see nothing. I hear nothing.
Black emptiness curls around me until finally, my back slams against a hard surface, eliciting a cough from my lips.
Pain erupts in every fibre of my being as I blink black spots away to reveal warm light.
It blurs my vision, making it harder to see.
There’s a litany of surprised gasps that reach my ears from somewhere off to my right.
And then a shadow looms over me, blocking the light that stings at my eyelids.
The scent of warm amber and dark spice invades my nostrils as the shadow looms closer.
Slowly, my eyes adjust as I blink blearily up at the shadow, which turns out to be not a shadow at all, but a man standing over me.
His sleek black hair reaches past his shoulders, like silk that seems to bleed into the black coat he’s wearing, embroidered with silver swirls.
His sharp eyes look down at me with feline-like curiosity, intense and breathtakingly terrifying.
‘Hello, Arianell Nocthare.’ His accent rolls in a smooth wave, melodic and rich. ‘I’ve been waiting a long time for you.’
My brows rise, confused as I come to the realisation that I have no idea where I am, or how I got here. But I don’t think I’m in Valmora anymore.
‘Now,’ the man continues. ‘How about we make a little deal?’