29. Morgan

The chillof the predawn air seeps through the fabric of the tent, pulling me out of sleep.

I lie still for a moment, listening to Blaze’s soft, rhythmic breathing beside me.

Last night… well, it was intense.

But that connection was a lie forged in the deceptive darkness of night. It had to be. How else was I so vulnerable with someone who doesn’t know my deepest, darkest truths?

It should be impossible.

Yet, somehow, it wasn’t.

As I lay there, lost in my memories of last night and trying not to wake Blaze, the wind picks up outside. Quiet at first, then rustling against the sides of our tent with a persistence that feels almost intentional.

Morgan,it seems to hiss. The time is now.

I still, chills running down my spine as it whistles my name again. It’s like it’s talking to me, calling to me.

But no. This is madness. Sure, I’ve received messages from the universe before. But only when I use my magic to ask for them. Never like this.

The wind can’t speak. At least, I don’t think it can.

I must be more exhausted from the events of yesterday—and from last night—than I realized.

I need to shake myself out of it.

So, I close my eyes, trying to find sleep again and will the wind away.

It’s no use. Because the whispers grow more insistent, begging for my attention. Its words are soft, but I’m not imagining it. They’re definitely there.

Hurt him, it seems to say. Kill him.

My breathing quickens, and I squeeze my eyes tighter together, as if doing so can erase the phantom voices in my mind.

This isn’t real. It can’t be real.

Everyone you love dies or betrays you, the wind continues its incessant attack, like an assault to my brain. Why would Blaze be any different?

My heart races, thudding against my ribcage like a trapped bird desperate for escape.

This can’t be happening.

Maybe it’s the valley playing tricks on me?

It has to be. After all, it’s called the Valley of the Vanished. It’s not overly crazy to think it has magic in it that can make people, well... vanish.

I steady my breathing, and when I do, the wind quiets, until the voices disappear completely.

It’s going to be okay.

But when I open my eyes, the darkness of the tent is closing in, and the air thickens, threatening to swallow me whole.

And then, an awful question filters through my mind.

What if the wind is right?

After all, I’ve only known Blaze for a day. What if he’s using me? What if the only reason he wants me alive is so I can help him complete this journey? To get the Crimson Quill? And then he’ll get rid of me when he doesn’t need me anymore?

What if last night was a giant ploy to get me to trust him?

Fear settles inside of me like a fist tightening around my lungs.

There’s not enough air in here. I’m going to suffocate. Worse—I might do something to Blaze. Something I’ll regret.

I need to get out of this stupid, tiny tent.

Careful not to wake Blaze—and avoiding touching him, in case it makes me actually want to physically harm him—I slip out of the tent and step outside.

The world’s bathed in the soft glow of the predawn light, and the fresh air hits me like a much-needed shock to my system.

In seconds, my head is clear, the paranoia and fear washed away. The wind still whispers, but it’s the natural sound of the early morning. Not the sinister taunts from before.

None of that was real. I was getting in my head about nothing.

After all, Blaze saved my life. Twice. He doesn’t want to hurt me. Nothing he’s done has hinted at that. Sure, he got a little out of control last night, but that was different. In fact, before we went to sleep, he was torn up just from the possibility of hurting me.

Then again, I didn’t think my sisters would turn against me, either.

I wish I knew what was going on in Blaze’s mind—what he might do next. If I did, it would get rid of these worries. Then I can move on and forget this strange delusion ever happened.

Now that he’s sleeping, there’s no time like the present to get some answers. All it will take is a little bit of blood magic.

So, making my way behind the cover of some nearby trees, I take a deep breath, grounding myself. Once certain there’s no one nearby, I draw my dagger from the sheath attached to my belt, its blade glinting in the first light of dawn.

I slept with the weapon on me.

Better to be prepared than to be sorry. Or worse, dead.

As I stare down at it, memories from last night play in my mind, making my heart flutter and my stomach fill with warmth. But the feelings don’t last for long.

Because I screwed up. Majorly.

It would have been one thing if Blaze learned the truth about my magic before we slept together. I’d like to think it would be understandable. We’ve only known each other for a few days, and I don’t owe him my secrets.

But this—being physically vulnerable with him before being emotionally open about something so important about myself—well… I don’t know how I’d feel if the situation was reversed.

I don’t think I’d feel happy about it. Actually, I think I’d feel pretty used. Maybe even betrayed. Or at least deceived.

But my time alone out here isn’t going to last forever.

I can work through my feelings for Blaze later. Right now, I need to focus on casting this spell.

I press the edge of the dagger to my palm, the sharpness a reminder of the reality I face.

“For clarity and foresight,” I whisper, a mantra to focus my intentions.

Then, I draw the blade across my skin, wincing at the bite of pain, and place my dagger back into its sheath. Blood wells up from the wound.

Just when I’m about to flip my hand over to spill the droplets onto the ground, a twig snaps behind me.

“Morgan?” Blaze’s voice, thick with sleep and concern, cuts through the morning silence.

I spin around to face him, cursing inwardly, my heart racing with panic.

He’s bleary eyed from the early wakeup—apparently, he’s not a morning person—but it somehow makes him look sweet and innocent. He’s far from either of those things, but it’s like his soul is open to me. Like he cares about me on a deeper level than I realized.

Seeing him like this makes the guilt twist in my stomach even more.

“You’re hurt,” he says, his voice softening as he walks toward me.

Quickly, I hide my hand behind my back and will the cut to heal. As a blood witch, I can keep my wounds open for as long or as short as I want, to give myself time to spill my blood to do spells.

I need this one to heal. Now.

I also need to say something before Blaze gets even more suspicious.

“It’s nothing. I came out to use the bathroom and… I fell.” It sounds ridiculous, so I give him a sheepish smile and add, “I’ve never been the outdoorsy type.”

The skin on my palm is already knitting back together. Soon, there won’t be evidence that the injury was from a swipe of my dagger instead of from a fall to the ground.

Even if he suspects something, he’ll have no way to prove it.

“You fell?” he repeats, not sounding like he buys it.

I need to switch tactics. Divert. Distract.

Anything to avoid being cornered into telling the truth. Because this—being caught literally red handed the morning after being intimate together—is far from how I want my reveal about being a blood witch to play out.

“Why are you following me to the bathroom?” I ask, switching the topic away from me and onto him.

He pauses, and for a moment, I worry I pushed too far. Underestimated his intuition.

Please believe it, I think, and I keep my gaze locked on his, as if I can drill my plea into his mind.

He glances at the ground, then refocuses on me.

“I was worried,” he admits. “You left the protection circle. I had no idea where you were. Given that we’re in a place called the Valley of the Vanished, don’t you see why that would be concerning?”

He doesn’t sound worried anymore.

He sounds angry.

He also has a good point.

“Sorry.” My cheeks flush, and I can’t look at him as I scramble for what to say next. “It was stupid. I guess the protection circle was sort of small, and I just wanted some privacy.”

Blaze studies me for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Then, his expression softens.

“Sure,” he finally says. “No problem. We can just make the protection circle bigger next time.”

“Cool. Sounds good,” I say, even though I’m not convinced he bought it. Plus, we both know that the bigger the circle, the more magic it will take to create.

We need to be conserving as much magic as possible, since we have no idea what we’ll be facing next.

Suddenly, as we’re standing here with only ten feet between us, the memories of last night hit me like a force of nature. The feeling of his skin against mine as it burned hotter and hotter, the fire threatening to consume us both. The rawness. The realness. The closeness.

From the intensity in his gaze, I can tell he’s remembering it as well.

I can also see pretty clearly that he wants a repeat of it. Right here, right now.

Every muscle in my body wants to close the distance between us, kiss him, and lose myself in his touch all over again.

But I can’t. I already feel guilty enough as it is. Now, in the clarity of daylight, I know better than to give into the illusion of trust and make everything worse.

“About last night…” I say, and his breath hitches as he waits for me to continue. “I loved it. Every moment of it.”

It’s not a lie.

It’s also far from that simple.

He gives me a small smile, the admission seeming to smooth over the edges of his worry. “Good. I’m glad.” He runs his fingers through his hair, which is tousled in the sexiest way possible. “When you weren’t there when I woke up, I wondered if you regretted it.”

“I don’t regret it.” The lie tastes metallic in the back of my throat, so I add a truth to try feeling better. “It was amazing.”

He walks toward me, and I know that fiery look in his eyes. He wants to kiss me again. To have a repeat of last night.

But no. I can’t.

“We should get back to camp and pack up,” I tell him, darting out of his path. “We have to cover as much ground as possible while the sun’s up. We can’t risk getting… distracted.”

A shadow of disappointment crosses his face, but it’s gone in an instant. “Absolutely,” he says, and just like that, he’s back to the business of completing our quest. “Let’s do this.”

As we head back to camp, a breeze blows behind me. Whispers in the wind.

Watching me.

Warning me.

Reminding me to keep my guard up around Blaze and be ready to defend myself, no matter what.