Page 194 of Lethal King

I’m searching for some warmth. Something that will remind me of what it feels like to truly be home.

Still, the further I wade forward, the clearer it becomes that I will find no comfort here. No. The only warmth in my cold life was left at that dinner table. It was left on Rian’s lips as he left me to the darkness.

A hint of that heat still clings to me. And I imagine it’s all that’s keeping my heart from freezing over right now.

The further I venture away from that dinner, the fainter it grows.

Rian.

What has he done to me?

Turning towards the former center of my village, I step through a clump of tall weeds and almost trip when my toes hit something solid. The metal clangs through the empty night, rolling forward to reveal a blackened cup, or maybe it’s a pot. In the darkness, it’s hard to tell. And I don’t care enough to investigate.

I step over it and continue forward.

When I hit the edge of where my village used to be, I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out my phone. The program I devised to track down the number that texted me is still running.

Whoever called me here isn’t an amateur. Hell, the cloaking technology they’re using could rival my own. Who the fuck is capable of that?

As far as I know, only Rian and I could have concocted something like this. And there’s no way he sent that text.

Slipping my phone away again, I carefully continue forward. The flattened ruins loom tall behind me as I close my eyes and search for a sound. Anything to tell me I’m not alone.

I don’t hear anything.

Behind my shut eyelids, though, I do see something.

The warm orange glow of La Forcina’s. That red table cloth, covered in half-empty plates. The glasses of expensive wine we barely even tried.

Those ocean blue eyes.

I rip my eyes back open. The warmth fades away. My heart is pounding in my chest.

Ahead, I see the silhouette of a giant weeping willow.

Shit.

“Willow…”

The whisper barely leaves my lips before it’s lost in the soft breeze.

My chest constricts.

I shouldn’t have come here.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I pause for a moment. Tears trickle down my cheeks. The soft breeze blows back my hair.

For a moment, I just stand there, quietly sobbing. But it’s not all sadness. And it’s not all regret. Even without any trace of warmth, this almost feels like where I should be. Alone, amongst the ghosts of my childhood. I belong in the dirt, right along with everyone else, right with the—

Suddenly, my brain freezes.

My pitiful thoughts pause.

A tiny sound carries on the breeze, perking up my ears.

Unclasping the bridge of my nose, I reach for my gun. But my hand halts before I can feel the cold steel.

Please…