I ran from Vail and that may have changed everything, but I still don’t know where I belong.

TEN

MY FANGS CLOSED ON his throat, crushing his windpipe. Hot, coppery blood poured into my mouth, down my throat. His heart slowed. Long, horrible pauses punctuated its beats. His eyes met mine, his lips curved into a smile, and I heard his voice in my mind.

Welcome, Calla.

I scrambled back and shifted into human form, suddenly cold, sickened. Dead Stuart kept smiling despite the gaping hole in his neck. A light touch brushed my shoulder. I whirled and faced a woman. She wore a smile like the dead man’s, beneficent, welcoming. Her dark auburn hair tumbled in waves down her back and her charcoal irises were shot through with silver. They sparkled with delight as she gazed at me. Her full lips parted.

“Calla.” She murmured my name as if intoning a prayer, fervent and hopeful. Her dark eyes flickered down, and I followed her gaze. A child, barely more than an infant, lay slumbering in her arms. The child’s peaceful face drew me forward a step. As I peered down, the child’s eyes fluttered open. Night sky full of twinkling stars. Eyes like his mother’s.

Ren.

He gazed at me. An exuberant cascading laugh escaped from his lips and he clapped in recognition and celebration. A warmth like home flared to life within my chest. I looked at Corrine Laroche and the smile died. The shadow loomed behind her, a gathering storm cloud of destruction. My mouth opened, ready to cry out a warning, but my breath wouldn’t come. Translucent ink bands poured over her neck and shoulders. The snaking black vines wrapped around her arms. She began to scream and Ren tumbled from her grasp. He cried out in fear. I lunged forward to catch him, but another pair of sinewy arms snatched the child from the air. Corrine shrieked as the wraith took her, her body bound in undulating black ropes that pulsed and twisted along with the throes of her agony.

I dropped to my knees in horror. A snicker pulled my gaze from the tortured woman. Emile Laroche glowered at his mate, his watercolor blue eyes full of scorn. He glanced at the bawling child in his arms. His shoulders twitched and he shook his head; his dirty blond hair fell forward, brushing against his chin, shadowing his features, transforming his pointed face into a mask of devilish cruelty. Ren screamed and Emile’s mouth slashed thin, a knife point of revulsion. He gripped the child more tightly. With a final disdainful glance at Corrine’s convulsing form, he turned his back on her and strode away. Ren’s shrieks of fear rang in my ears; the baby’s cry united with his mother’s screams in a ghastly chorus.

I couldn’t move. My eyes were locked on Corrine’s torment. A figure loomed beside me; my face turned. Ren stared at the wraith-bound woman. He was no longer a child but a young man, my intended mate. The boy’s charcoal eyes that had sparkled like a galaxy were now flatand hollow. His dark hair was plastered by sweat to his forehead and neck. A mosaic of purple, yellow, green, and black bruises covered his torso. Crimson welts and burn scars created a grotesque pattern on his arms and back. His eyes moved slowly over his mother. He frowned as though the scene of horror that played out before him made no sense. He shook his head and sighed.

“Oh God, Ren.” I reached for him, but my hand passed through his body.

He continued to stare at the screaming woman. His gaze didn’t turn to me, but his lips moved slightly.

“Where are you, Lily?” His wrist jerked. Something caught the light, flashed blue: my ring, looped over the tip of his finger, swinging like a pendulum marking time he didn’t have.

Slashes appeared on his shoulders, skin opened, blood poured down, washing his body in a crimson flood. Red liquid ribbons slid around his arms, wrists, fingers. He dropped to his knees, head bowed. Corrine and I screamed together.

I gasped for breath as my eyelids snapped open. The nightmare swirled at the edges of my mind. The screams had become howls echoing in my ears. I struggled not to thrash on the bed, trying to slow my heartbeat. A hollow sadness slowly overtook the fear that dragged me from sleep.

My heart slowed. The world returned. I was still weary and guessed I’d slept little more than an hour. Only half awake, my fingers clutched at the ring Ren had given me the night of our union. Even in the darkness of my room it gleamed, catching the faintest starlight that trickled through the glass ceiling. I rolled onto my side, closing my eyes, but the moment I did, I could see Ren bleeding again. Sleep wasn’t an option—at least not for a while.

I slipped from my room, not having a sense of where I’d go. The only thought driving me from my bed was that wandering the halls of the Academy would distract me from the horror of that dream. I glanced at the next door down the hall. Part of me wanted to go to Shay, to apologize and seek comfort in his arms. But I was still too unsettled by this place, by the fight with Emile. Too many things about that battle shook me to the core, filling me with doubt. Not only Lydia’s death but my own choices. I hadn’t killed Sasha. I hadn’t wanted to. Would I be worth anything to the Searchers in battle?

As I walked, I twisted the ring on my finger, remembering the way it had gleamed in my dream. What did it mean that I’d accepted this sign of Ren’s devotion but still left him at the altar? Did that make me a traitor or just a coward?

My somber thoughts were interrupted when my nose twitched. A familiar, alluring scent led me to a staircase and down. I took another deep breath, letting the rich, heavy aroma pull me forward. Two flights down I walked into a long, broad room filled with tables. A few lamps glowed, gently illuminating the space.