They had walked for hours in silence. The afternoon grew hot and heavy, both boys having to tie their jackets around their waists. The sun soaked into their skin, making Adair’s neck hot and itchy. The towering trees had begun to thin, leaving the memories of the Gortach deep within the forest, locked away.
Marquis hissed through his teeth. “It feels so much longer walking back to our reality then escaping it.”
He raised his eyebrow at the prince, not replying. Deeper and deeper his thoughts ran into those hidden nooks and crannies of his heart, into places he steeled with an iron barrier. Preparing for his reality. One where it wouldn’t involve him and Emory as a team, preparing for a future where the Academy would have been theirs. One where his small reprieve of friends wouldn’t exist. There was a murmur of sighs on the wind as it ruffled through the leaves, making his heart beat a little faster. Looking around, nothing seemed amiss or different. The overlaying songs of the forest were in full play, from the gurgling streams to the small animals running in the distance.
He stopped, his blood turning to ice. He whispered, “Marquis.”
The prince stopped, huffing. “Oh, he does exist. Welcome back to the land of the living.”
“Something is wrong.”
His gaze narrowed slightly, his deep green eyes reflecting flecks of gold in the afternoon light. Looking around, he shrugged. “I don’t see anything. What do you mean?”
Adair wiped his clammy palms on his pants, trying to steady his nerves. Everything looked normal, but there again, on the wind, the whispers became clear, and sharp. And filled with screams. They shivered down his spine, clambered into the walls of his consciousness. They were the lancing pain through his body, the agony in his heart. His feet carried him, even though every fiber of his core was ignited. He heard Marquis muttering behind him, following closely, their pounding footsteps charging across the forest floor. He ran so hard, the trees blurred around him, his tunnel vision overwhelming him. Again, those screams echoed all around him, on the wind, in his mind. The once calmness of the forest seemed to ripple, and flickers of nightmares ignited around him. The daylight was gone. And the darkness awaited him. Vicious claws snapping, grabbing toward him, luminous eyes and fierce teeth, yearning, wanting to capture him. To tear, to rip, to consume. He ran faster, his chest burning, his breath coming out in wheezes. He was running blindly into the night, his arms cracking against the trees, fresh blood running down his arms. There was only him, Marquis disappearing on a distant memory. He was alone.
“Adair.”
Shuddering to a stop, he grabbed his temples, shutting his eyes quickly, not wanting to see them. Willing them away.
“Adair, you are almost home.” Tears streamed down his face at the cool touch, and he was frozen. Cool fingers tipped his chin, and his eyes opened, and he took them in. Their pale arms, their elongated limbs. Their empty sockets, their pinned-back smiles. Their long black hair blended into the night around them as they circled around him, crooning.
“Who are you?”
The one closest to him tilted its head, weighing the question. “We are like you. Trapped in a world, in a place we don’t belong. A place that is dying. I have seen your heart, Adair. I have seen your dreams and your fears.” Again, she placed a hand over his heart, his wild beat thrumming as she breathed down his neck. Too close, too close. “And they are mine.”
The surroundings around them melted away, the screams fading to a pulse in the back of his mind. All he could take in, all he could make out, was her. There was the crackle of flames, and Adair blinked. Flames roared all around them, uncontrolled and devouring everything they touched. He couldn’t feel the heat, or their burn as they licked his skin. The creature giggled before him whispering, “See? They won’t hurt you, can’t hurt you. This darkness, this endless destruction, is what you crave. In all its beauty, and in all its might.”
He shook his head. “No.”
She curled her thin fingers into his collarbone, growling, “It’s time you accept the darkness in you. Stop. Fighting. Us.” And with that, she pushed him back, surprisingly strong. Stumbling back, he fell into the roaring endless fire, the flames crackling hungrily. He couldn’t tell where the fire began and ended within him, as the bronze hues faded into inky black.
“Adair!” The black flames, turning his heart to ash. “Mate, come on!” The flashes of a world remade. The fear. But also, the greatness. It was all him. “Do not die on me! Stratton!” And him, sitting on a throne of bones. The slap across his face was hard and unrelenting. Dots danced in his vision as Adair took in a huge inhale, his lungs searing. “Oh, thank the Black Sea.” Marquis sat down hard on the ground, shaking his head. His freckles stood out like their own constellations against his death pale skin.
Blinking, the treetops and the clear afternoon sky came into focus, and Adair realized he was on his back, his limbs splayed around him. His tongue was swollen, dried blood along his lips and underneath his nose. His whole body felt like it had been chewed and patchily put back together. He lay there stunned, unable to piece his reality and what had happened fluently together. A few minutes passed before he could manage to sit up, rasping, “What happened?”
Marquis choked out a laugh. “Oh, what happened? You mean you saying something was wrong and then freezing, convulsing in a fit the next second, screaming? I tried to help you, but I couldn’t and your eyes...”
“My eyes, what?” His voice rasped out, sounding unfamiliar and worn.
Marquis shook his head, and when he looked at Adair,
