Page 37 of The Blood Rites

“And who are you?”

“Theon Ryll.” He inclines his head slightly. “The waters whispered of our meeting long before it happened.”

I try very hard not to react to that.

“Did they?”

“Oh yes.” His expression softens dreamily. “I have seen you before, I think. In dreams. A boy with honey skin and golden eyes, filled to the brim with light.”

Heat creeps unexpectedly into my face. I tell myself he means nothing by it. Theon speaks like someone only half tethered to the present moment, his attention drifting in and out like clouds too thin to hold the rain. Even standing still, he seems strangely disconnected from the room around him.

“I had something important to tell you,” he says suddenly, brow furrowing faintly. “Though I appear to have lost it.” He laughs softly to himself. “That happens rather often.”

“You forget things?”

“I forget many things.” His smile turns distant again. “The water carries too much at once. Memories. Dreams. Echoes. Sometimes it becomes difficult to tell which belong to me.”

A small knot tightens unexpectedly inside my chest.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Oh, I am quite content.” His voice grows airy again. “There is beauty in surrendering to the tides, even when they carry you too far from shore.”

I have absolutely no idea what that means.

“That sounds… complicated,” I settle on finally.

Theon laughs softly.

“Yes. I suppose it is.”

For a moment, neither of us speaks. Then his attention settles fully on me once more, startlingly lucid this time.

“We will speak again,” he says quietly. “Your name is often sung beneath the waves.”

Another strange chill passes through me.

Before I can think of a response, he drifts past me down the corridor with that same fluid grace all the Waterborn seem to possess, as though gravity holds them less firmly than the rest of us.

I watch him disappear for a moment before slipping inside my room.

The first thing I see is the cracked scar in the floor partially hidden beneath the blanket I shoved over it earlier.

Evidence. Even here, alone, my secrets refuse to stay buried.

I shut the door quickly and look away.

The room suddenly feels very small. Too much has happened in a single day. Too many eyes lingering too long on me. Too many people noticing things they shouldn’t notice.

Kael’s voice still coils through my thoughts.

Mine. The memory sends heat and revulsion twisting together low in my stomach. I hate how easily he unsettles me. More than that, I hate that part of me keeps searching for reasons to think about him anyway.

The look on his face after the shadows disappeared refuses to leave me alone—not the violence, or the blood, but the fear.

That was what followed me out of the Dome.

I sit heavily on the edge of the bed and finally pull my boots off, exhaustion settling deep into my bones.