Chapter 11
“Life ends. Death is eternal.”
- The Old Book
Iargued with the Veiler guarding the outside of my tent for several minutes. He was being extremely frustrating. I tried to explain just how important the situation was, but he kept repeating that “no one disturbs the commander.”
Once he put his hands on me to guide me back into the tent, I slammed my knee into his groin and watched him wince.
I needed to find Rowan’s tent.
I made my guess based on location, assuming that the tent in the center of the camp would be the commander’s. I prayed I was right.
I entered the central tent and immediately made a note of how spacious it was. It was slightly smaller than the tent that the culled shared, but it was considerably less cramped.
I saw Rowan spread out underneath a large fur blanket, with his head resting on a pillow. Rowan shifted out from underneath the blanket and stood.
I raised my gaze to his face—his bare, unmasked face—and my breath hitched.
It somehow felt indecent to glance at his face when it was so naked. It seemed too intimate, nothing I should have borne witness to—but I couldn’t look away.
The oil lamp flickered in the corner and shone brightly enough that I could take in his unrestricted features for the first time. He scratched the hair along his jaw and then brushed his brunette waves behind his ears.
My eyes trailed his sharp jaw, and then up over his high cheekbones until they locked with his.
Rowan’s eyes were a striking light brown that complemented his strong, dark brow.
I’d seen his eyes before through the narrow slits of the mask he wore, but seeing them unobstructed made my throat tighten.
“To what do I owe the intrusion at this hour?” Rowan rasped just as the other Veiler entered his tent.
“I apologize, sir, but she insisted. When I tried to redirect her back into her tent, she attacked me. I didn’t harm her—just as you requested—but she got past me.” The Veiler flustered, trying to pivot me toward the entrance.
I twisted out of his weak hold and turned back toward Rowan, who watched with one brow raised curiously.
“I must speak with you. It’s about the safety of the camp.” I struggled to get my words out as the Veiler began tugging me away again.
“Let her speak,” Rowan said with a wave of his hand, making the other Veiler halt his movement. “If it’s truly about the safety of our camp, then it’s imperative I’m made aware.”
I rolled my shoulders back and straightened my posture.
“Something or someone is coming, and there will be death,” I said.
Rowan huffed a laugh.
“That’s vague. You know this, how?”
“I saw it in my dream—”
“A dream?” Interrupted the Veiler. “You stormed into the commander’s tent in the middle of the night because of a nightmare?” He turned to Rowan. “I’m sorry for the intrusion, sir. I will escort her back—”
“It was a vision!” I barked out, pleading for them to hear me.
If they didn’t listen, then we would all be dead.
“Why should I believe you?” Rowan said as he walked toward me. My body tensed as he drew closer.
“I’ve had them before. I know what they are.”
“I understand that’s what you believe, but I asked why I should believe you?”
“Because I have nothing to gain from lying to you.”
We stared at each other briefly, but in those few moments, I felt like the air had been sucked out of me. Every muscle went stiff, and my hands clenched the hem of my tunic.
“Lorena!” Rowan yelled out. A few moments later, a tall, stocky woman with short brown hair entered the tent. “Send our scouts out.”
“Yes, sir,” she said and swiftly departed.
“Get her back to her tent,” Rowan commanded.
“Will do, sir.”
I fought against the Veiler’s hold, but he grabbed me by the back of my shirt. I let out a yelp as I was dragged back to the tent. He quickly unfastened the tent and threw me inside.
“If you’re smart, you’ll stay put.” The Veiler tied the tent shut once more.
I needed to get back to Rowan. I needed to make sure he believed me.
All the culled were awake and actively watching me as I panted in frustration before them.
“What’s going on?” Lily asked, wariness coating her voice.
“I have to sneak out. Can you distract the guard while I do that?”
Lily didn’t reply. She just stared at me as if I’d lost my mind. Which I might as well have.
I agreed that the idea of protecting Veilers was as ridiculous as it was reckless.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever I had seen in my dream was some kind of warning for all of us—the culled included.
I didn’t believe Rowan had trusted my word, so I desperately needed to get back and convince him.
Sending scouts out wasn’t enough. We needed to brace ourselves against the impending danger—whatever it might be.
It was Isaac who broke the silence.
“I’ll do it.”
Everyone’s head turned toward him.
“Thank you,” I sighed, chest aching from holding my breath.
“You saved my life. I owe you a debt.”
“Alright, then. If you’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
I explained the plan, and Isaac gave a quick nod to show he understood.
We took our places at the entrance to the tent. Fear was written all over Isaac’s face, but he didn’t bend to it. I quietly untied the tent while another culled held it shut. Then, I counted down on my fingers.
Isaac sprinted as fast as he could out of the tent. I watched the Veiler take off after him, and then a moment later, I was soaring in the opposite direction.
I ran until I reached another tent, pressing my back to its side, out of the guard’s line of sight. I sank to the Ground and hugged my knees as I gasped for air. The temperature was frigid, but my skin was heated from adrenaline, so I barely felt it.
Once my breathing evened out, I stood and looked around the camp. It was empty. Tents were open and lights were flickering inside, but I saw no movement within them.
“Look who’s out here all alone,” said a familiar gravelly voice. “Lost, are you?”
I turned my head and met Balor’s black eyes. I internally screamed at my body to move—to run—but it didn’t budge. Not again. Why did I always freeze?
Balor tilted his head slightly, like a predator sizing up a wounded creature. Amusement flickered in his gaze.
“How’s your lip?” I asked, fighting to keep my voice steady.
My insides felt like they were coiling tighter and tighter, but I wanted to appear strong.
A slow grin spread across his face, splitting the already-healing wound. It bled again.
“Hurts like a bitch,” he admitted, voice almost playful, “but only when I smile.”
“That’s unfortunate,” I mocked.
He took another step. My fingers curled into fists, and my chest heaved.
“Don’t worry,” he continued, “the pain will be worth it when I smile down at your dead and bleeding body.”
The pit of my stomach turned to ice.
He raised his knife, poised to strike.
This was it—I was going to die.