Page 177 of Whispers of Wisteria

Then he exhaled, and the spell was broken.

I blinked. Poor Titus was chained, half-naked, and I was plastered against him in a most immodest way.

Normally, I’d be embarrassed, and I should be, but instead, I just felt numb.

I stepped back, biting my bottom lip as I studied the floor.

Runes. Mirrors.

I didn’t know much, but Finn had mentioned a few helpful things.

Titus repeated my name, and the shimmering scales under his skin seemed closer to the surface as he asked, “Are they dead?”

I sucked in my breath. I was torn between focusing on him, or enacting the next phase of my plan.

Probably the plan—it was more important.

“You don’t need to say anything.” His mouth twisted, briefly showing off razor-sharp teeth. “I can smell them on you,” he said, and this time he enunciated each word. “Are the fuckers dead?”

A coldness broke through my quiet feelings, and my back straightened.

Smell…

I guess… they didn’t have the greatest hygiene.

I wiped my palms over the shredded remains of my skirt. Nothing had technically happened, so why did I feel this way?

I’d lived through much worse.

Still, my skin crawled as a heavy exhaustion loomed closer. But I couldn’t focus on those feelings; I would be useless.

I nodded in answer to his question and backed up another step.

He drew his brows together as he watched me.

“Bianca, listen—” His voice was low and urgent, but his words fell around me like a mist. “I want you to find somewhere to hide.”

The first semblance of emotion stirred within me, and my throat felt tight.

I staggered back another step. I couldn’t leave him. I pressed my clenched fists against my chest, as the world swayed.

My attention darted to the mirror once more. I had to help him, but I had no idea what to do.

I couldn’t breathe.

“Bianca…” Titus began again, but then his words faded into the background.

27

I feltthe instant it clicked into place. A tug, a pulling that made my body feel like it had a mind of its own. I stepped toward it, my breath growing shallow, as the hair on the back of my neck rose.

Then, I was touching the smooth glass—but I had no memory of crossing the room.

It wasn’t glass at all, but stone. It looked like the watch Finn had given to me.

The humming in my ears stopped.

I’d tried so hard to follow Finn’s lessons, but I could never quiet my thoughts enough to focus on meditation.