Chapter 27
I Know Places
Raven
"Wait," Rachel lowers her voice, her expression shifting. "Has anything weird happened since we've been here at the castle?"
I slow my steps. The memory from the swing flashes back to life, uninvited. The way the air shifted. The sharp pull in my chest, like I'd seen it all before, but through someone else's eyes. Yet, somehow, it felt like it was mine.
I hesitate, picking my words carefully. "I mean, yeah, actually." The admission leaves a strange weight in my chest. "It happened so fast. I touched the tree outside, and then it was like I got hit with this…I don't know, a vision? Like watching an old memory play out."
Rachel's eyebrows shoot up, leaning in with interest. "A memory?"
"Maybe?" I frown, trying to piece it together.
"It felt like something I should know, but I couldn't quite reach it.
It was like waking up knowing you had a dream, but no matter how hard you try, you can't remember the details.
" My voice drops slightly. "It reminded me of the stories my grandmother used to tell me. "
She watches me carefully, sensing the shift in my tone, but my mind is already dragging me back.
It was a fairytale, one I'd heard a hundred times, but suddenly, it wasn't just a story anymore. It wasn't just a memory, it was something else.
The grass was so green and vibrant in a way that felt wrong.
The sky stretched above me in a deep mesmerizing teal, and I swear the colors were shifting like water when it caught the light.
The cold air bit at my skin, carrying the crisp smell of wet dirt.
It all felt so familiar, but edged with something metallic and sharp.
Gold leaves swayed in the breeze, catching the sunlight like tiny flames, and for a minute, I could've sworn I heard them. Not just the rustling, but something else. It was almost like they were alive.
The damp grass pressed against my bare feet. The distant chirping of birds felt too close, it was almost like they were perched just over my shoulder. Every sense was heightened and stretched thin over something ancient and restless.
The memory jumped like a dream yanked out of order.
A massive stone was just up ahead and it was dark and grim, covered in carved symbols that sent a shiver down my spine just looking at it. Something about it seemed off, like I'd seen it a thousand times but I know I've never seen it.
There was a man that was oozing power that had dark hair, and a crown sat on his head. It reminded me of the man in the portrait.
He held a dagger, and the blade was gleaming even through the thick smear of blood coating it.
My pulse was pounding. I felt a wave of ice crash through my veins, locking my breath in my chest. The weight of it crushed me, freezing me in place. And then, just as quickly, everything was gone.
I blink, shaking my head, trying to shove the memory back into the dark corners of my mind. But Rachel's still watching me, waiting for more of the story.
I don't have a single answer, but her voice drags me right back to the present.
"It happened so fast," I say, still trying to piece it all together.
"Wait," Rachel cuts in. "The tree's a metaphor for Kane's dick, isn't it?" She barely contains her laughter, and I immediately regret telling her anything.
I stop mid-thought, blinking at her in disbelief. "Rachel," I hiss, before bursting into laughter. "No! Oh my God, no. It was not a metaphor for Kane's dick."
Her grin only widens as I drag her back toward the dance floor. "I'm just saying," she teases, "the timing's suspicious. A mysterious tree, and you've got Sir Broods-a-lot doing the whole dark and sexy protector thing. You sure this isn't the start of some kinky fantasy?"
I roll my eyes, though I can't help the laugh that slips out. "I hate you."
"Lies," she sings, linking her arms through mine.
"It wasn't like that," I say, shaking my head. "It just reminded me of this story my grandmother used to tell me when I was little. That's all."
Rachel narrows her eyes, unconvinced. "Uh-huh," she drags the sound out, like she's about two seconds away from saying something else that'll make me regret every life choice I ever made.
I glance away, and the memory tugs at the edges of my thoughts again.
It wasn't just the tree though, I remembered something else the other day too, in the bathroom.
I hesitate, considering whether to tell her about it.
"I guess I'm just remembering these stories all of a sudden because of Scotland.
It's weird timing, but maybe that's all it is. "
Rachel pauses mid-step, and her expression shifts from playful to something more serious. "Okay, but why now? Why is this all happening here?"
Heat ignites in my palms, and it's the same strange warmth I felt earlier. It lingers just long enough for me to notice, before disappearing completely.
Rachel turns, narrowing her eyes and I open my mouth to say something, but I don't get the chance.
A low voice dripping with confidence cuts in. "Why, hello, ladies."
We both turn at the same time as a man steps forward. His presence is commanding attention before he even reaches us. His voice is smooth, and his accent is thick and velvety, instantly drawing my focus. He looks at me with a knowing smile.
"I saw you from across the room and had to come over," he continues with an easy tone. "I'm here to humbly plead for a dance. You, in that dress, are nothing short of a vision, and I can't stand the thought of you hiding away like a wallflower when everyone should appreciate the view."
He extends his hand, and the gesture is all confidence. My pulse picks up under his scrutiny, and I hate that my body keeps having reactions without my consent.
Rachel's jaw drops, and for a second, I think she might intervene. But then she quickly recovers.
The blue-eyed mystery man I first danced with appears behind her, offering his hand.
I glance back at the stranger, taking a deep breath, and I can feel the heat crawl up my neck, but I refuse to let it show.
"I'd love to," I say smoothly, sliding my hand into his with practiced ease.
His fingers curl around mine. His charm is effortless and it's disarming. For a split second, I'm stunned by how easily the air moves around him.
He leads me onto the dance floor with ease, twirling me once before pulling me close. His hand settles on my waist, and I can't help but notice the way he moves.
My pulse skips, even though the rush feels different from what I feel with Kane. It's less charged, but more unexpected.
He leans in and I can feel his breath against my ear. "I'm so very grateful you said yes. I'd hate for this to be a missed opportunity."
His voice sends a ripple of awareness through me.
I tilt my head, letting a hint of challenge slip into my tone. "Do you?"
His chuckle is low, and his eyes look over me, sharp and assessing. "Very much so." Then, after a beat, he says, "I have to say, your dress is… something else. Whatever you set out to accomplish with it, you succeeded."
A small smile tugs at my lips.
I did choose this dress to feel powerful, to feel beautiful, and to feel like maybe, just for one night, I could be untouchable. Like I was in control of the attention I drew.
Mission accomplished, I suppose. But I keep those thoughts to myself, letting out a soft, nervous laugh instead.
His eyes linger, and their intensity makes me hyper-aware of every single movement as we glide across the floor.
His grip tightens just slightly, and there it is again. The same faint pulse. I can feel it where our hands connect. It's subtle, but it's there.
It has to be some weird adrenaline response, nothing more.
I shove the thought aside, locking it down as I refocus on matching his steps, refusing to let even a whisper of hesitation show.
"You dance beautifully, by the way," he whispers, pulling my attention back to him. His tone is flirty, but underneath his charm, there's something else.
"Thanks," I say lightly, and a little breathless. "I think you might be lying though, because I've only had a handful of lessons. You're not so bad yourself."
He chuckles like I just said something funny. "I've got a lifetime of practice." His grip is steady as he guides me around the floor. "You, however, certainly look like a queen tonight."
The compliment should feel harmless. Except…it doesn't.
"I wonder," he continues, lowering his voice, "if anyone else here realizes how special you are. I can, just by looking at you."
My breath stills as his fingers press lightly against mine. "Don't forget to wait for the signal."
The words slip between us and my mind scrambles to keep up, but before I can form a single question, I'm suddenly spinning. I don't even have time to register the switch before I land in someone else's arms.
My head whips around with the movement, and my balance slips. Seriously, how's a girl supposed to know when it's switching time? They need a damn warning system.
My new partner's grip tightens as he moves us around, unhurried. His energy is…different. Cooler. It feels more laid-back, like he's entirely at ease with the chaos around him.
His eyes meet mine, flashing with curiosity, and something about the look makes my skin prickle.
"You've done well."
"Thanks?" My brows lift as I try to ignore the strange feeling creeping up my spine. "What's that supposed to mean? Are you talking about my dancing skills or my questionable taste in partners?"
He laughs.
"All of the above," he admits, spinning me effortlessly before pulling me back in. "I'll give you a solid seven out of ten for form, but your habit of following mysterious men onto the dance floor? Bit reckless, even for you, beautiful."
I roll my eyes but can't fight the grin that tugs at my lips. "Says the guy who jumped in mid-spin like it was second nature."
"Fair point." He grins. "How's your night going?"