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Sorin closed his eyes.

Where are you? Where are you? Where are you?

Sorrow and grief and unyielding rage.

Hopelessness.

He felt her. All of her.

Tell me where you are.

West wing. In a tower. With no stars.

His eyes snapped open, and Nuri withdrew from his arm, wiping her mouth.

“You were right, Sentry,” he said with a nod to Finn. “She indeed resides in the west wing.” He pointed to a section on the west side of the house where an extra level jutted up into a tower. “Once Eliza has me in, she will meet you all at the beach. Be where you need to be,”he said to Cassius. “Once I have her out, I cannot wait for them if they are not there.”

“Understood,” Cassius replied with a nod.

“What of the shadows that follow her?” Callan asked, as Sorin made to leave the room.

“I suppose a flame lights up the shadows,” Nuri said keenly. Callan’s face paled slightly, the meaning of her words sinking in.

Sorin didn’t say another word as he left the tavern to meet Eliza.

CHAPTER 43

SCARLETT

Scarlett stood in that little room, forcing herself to breathe in and out. In and out. She was straining her ears, listening for the footsteps. When she heard them, it was over. She looked down at the ivory gown she was wearing, fingering the gold beading that adorned the dress. When she’d gone to bathe, she came out to find it her only option. Someone had come in while she was in the bath and taken every other piece of clothing from the room. Her long silver hair had been braided with golden beading as well. She shivered, the room as cold as ever. When those footsteps came, they would be Mikale and a Divine, a priest who could commune with the gods and had the power to unite two souls in marriage.

Her shadows swarmed her. They were the only constant she’d come to rely on. They gently wrapped and slid along her skin. The feel of them was as caressing as a lover. Sometimes their whispers sounded like him.

Where are you? Where are you? Where are you?

And probably because she was indeed going mad, she sometimes answered them.

West wing. In a tower. With no stars.

She had done everything she could these last few days. Last night had been her last hope. She knew Finn had understood her message. She knew Cassius and Tava and Drake had understood too, but they had run out of time. She had run out of options. Mikale had won their game.

The air whooshed from her lungs as she heard them. Footsteps outside her room. She went from having no air in her lungs to breathing too fast. The already cold room plummeted to freezing. Scarlett was already backing up, her shadows thickening around her. She gasped when she hit the freezing wall behind her.

But then the handle on the door was glowing. Bright and orange and as hot as a poker left in a fire.

And when the door swung open, it was not Mikale who stood there but…

Sorin?

The cloak he wore covered much of him, but she could glimpse leathers and some weapons, including the bloody dagger he held in his hand as he slipped inside and quietly pushed the door shut behind him.

But it wasn’t possible. She had to be imagining it. Scarlett stood rooted to the spot, afraid to move or make a sound, sure he would vanish. She was, in fact, succumbing to madness, she decided. Hallucinations. Fantastic. She narrowed her eyes at him, and the shadows around her seemed to loosen their grip a little.

“The dress is fine enough, but I much prefer that red number from the party,” Sorin drawled, pulling back his hood. Scarlett launched herself into his arms, the slits up the side of the dress allowing her to wrap her legs around his waist. Sorin was solid as he caught her. “Easy, Love,” he chuckled softly, but his arms held her just as tightly as she clung to him.

“Are you really here, or am I indeed going mad?” she cried, tears slipping down her cheeks. He lowered her to the ground, but didn’t let go of her. She leaned back and looked into his golden eyes. They were glowing like embers.

“I am here, Scarlett.”