Page 37 of Of Blood and Banes (The Arterian #2)

Even as I blink, the white is blinding, leached of all color and texture. A thick, creeping tingle races up my spine, raising every hair on the nape of my neck. An invisible tug pulls my attention to my right, and I turn to follow.

Out of the deafening white, a shadow shifts, so subtly as if to convince me nothing is actually there.

I can’t tell if it’s seconds, minutes, or hours, but as I watch, the shadow darkens.

Growing closer and firmer until it finally takes on the silhouette of a person.

I realize then that the shadow isn’t getting closer.

I am. My feet appear in the haze of white beneath me, carrying me to the figure.

By the time I look back up, I’m a few feet away from the silhouette, and I stop, unable to urge myself further.

A swallow rolls down my throat, thick and tight, as recognition overwhelms me.

My brother.

He’s facing away from me, but I would always recognize that dirty blonde hair and the cowlick sticking up near the back of his head.

“Aiden?” I call, but the words won’t leave my tongue.

My fingers tremble as I stretch a hand out, desperate to get his attention. The longing to see his face overwhelms every bit of my heart. To erase the memory of the last time I saw him: terrified, ashen, and frozen before he was swept into the freezing depths of the river back in Padmoor.

“Kit?” Aiden calls, though the rest of his body is eerily still, as if encased in stone.

His voice alone shatters something painful inside my chest. How long has it been since I heard his voice?

Since he called my name? Aside from that fateful day at the river, I couldn’t recall what his face looked like.

As if the painful flashbacks of his death created a dam, holding all of our other happy memories together hostage.

“Look at me!” I scream inside my head and out loud, the sound nearly foreign.

He still won’t turn to me. Instead, he takes a few steps away. I reach out again, swiping more frantically for him, but I can’t step any closer. My legs are locked into place.

He just needs to look at me. Just one. Simple. Look.

“Look at me!” I cry, tears blurring my vision of him. “Aiden! Please! Please, look at me!”

But the white creeps in like a hungry fog, disintegrating the sides of his arms, his legs, and spilling over his back.

“No, stop! Don’t go! Hold on!” My voice is raw, unrecognizable with the fear and desperation that has me in a vice grip. And there’s those two little words again. The two words that haunt me. The last words I ever spoke to him.

The rest of his silhouette is drowned out by white, and I’m left alone.

“Look at me! Please!”

As if all the white fog were sucked out of the room, everything snaps to black and a bone-chilling cold explodes through my body. At once, all my sensations roar back to life.

“Look at me! Please!” The words I said in my head in an unfamiliar tone repeat. But the fog of disillusion lifts, and the words ring inside my mind like a bell, each echoed repetition shaking off my uncertainty.

“Kat! Please, Gods. Kat!” Someone shakes me.

My eyes flash open, the black melting away to texture and shades of blue. A dizziness swarms my head like an angry mob of bees. The blurry glow of amber eyes, warm in the cold night, meet mine.

Cole.

“Look at me! Please!” His whisper is strained.

My vision sharpens. His broad torso is curled over me, my head resting against his chest. Even with the layers of his clothes deafening the noise, his heartbeat slams against his chest, dying to escape.

One of his arms is tucked underneath my neck, holding me to him, while the other hand brushes my cheek with his thumb.

As our eyes connect, a fissure cracks through his pained expression, relief flooding his eyes. “You’re going to be okay, alright? I’ve got you.” He darts a look over his shoulder to where Marge is staring. “She opened her eyes!”

A shadow shifts behind Marge, and I recognize Daeja in the background. Her eyes lock onto mine, and she grumbles, “Perhaps the Spoiled isn’t the best person to be training you.”

“I have no one else,” I respond weakly.

Marge races toward us, shaken out of her awe and nearly falls to her knees next to Cole, her scarred, withered hand coming to slowly rest on my shoulder. “What did you see, Katerina?”

A severe chill drowns out my nerves, and my teeth chatter uncontrollably in response. I squeeze myself closer into Cole’s warmth, my muscles groaning in protest. Gods, I feel so weak …even keeping my eyes open is nearly impossible.

“I…” My head swims again, as if I’ll be lost to unconsciousness once more.

Marge squeezes my shoulder. “Don’t close your eyes. Tell me. What did you see?”

“My…my brother,” I manage between shivers.

Cole’s eyes flash wider, and he rips off his jacket and wraps it around me before drawing me closer into him. “She’s cold, Marge. We need to get her warm?—”

Marge shushes Cole and tugs at my arm. “What did he say?”

“N-nothing but my n-name…h-he didn’t even…l-look at me.”

“Did you touch him?”

“No…why are…you asking me th-these th-th-things?”

“Do you feel alright?” She pats my cheek and forehead, nearly flinching when she touches my skin. Her breath whooshes out in a single blow. “Gods and heavens, you’re freezing.”

I nod, each second draining more energy to keep my eyes open.

Cole presses a hand to my cheek again before whipping a pointed look at Marge. “Why is she so cold?”

“Because she visited The White.”

“What in the hells is that?” he asks.

“The White is what many of the elders called the afterlife. When we die, our souls go to The White?—”

“And you just let her fucking pull until she died?” Cole growls.

“Well, I alerted you, didn’t I?” she bites back. “Don’t get mad at me. There wouldn’t have been anything I could have done to stop it. And besides, she didn’t actually die. She just visited it, you overprotective buffoon.”

I can’t seem to form my thoughts into words past my trembling lips. The afterlife? Where was everyone else? My mother, my father, the little girl I failed to save back in Hornwood?

Cole continuously rubs the side of my arm firmly, narrowing his gaze at Marge. “We need to get her inside and warm. Are there other repercussions we should be wary about?”

“Not that I know of. As long as she didn’t touch anyone…she should be fine. She’ll just need rest.”

Numbness seeps throughout every inch of my body. Just as I’m about to curse Marge for not warning me of the risks, I slip back out of consciousness.