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“In a way. I feel tired,” he admitted. “I haven’t felt weariness in so long. I’d forgotten…”

“Then sit. Rest.” I gestured to the couch. “Just promise not to disappear on me.” The words were vulnerable. Tremulous.

He looked at me then, eyes the same red as the flames below us.

“You summoned me,” he said. The words felt ancient, terrifying. “Your blood is on my picture.”

A chill skated down my spine. “Yes,” I breathed.

Was that what had done it? My blood spilling in that circle? Dripping to his portrait like a claim to the universe?

Wolfe turned, jaw shadowed. When he reached for me again, I felt it. His finger lazily moved down the back of my hand, like he needed to prove it to himself too. That he was still here, still in this world.

“I fear we are tethered now, Avery Eden. There is nowhere you could go where my soul would not follow.”

Chapter 11

The castle was quiet when I awoke.

No doors slamming.

No heavy footsteps.

For a moment, I hovered in my drowsiness.

Until I realized what the silence meant.

I sat up in a rush, throwing my covers back and lunging for the door. I didn’t stop to change, bare legs cold as I ran through the upper floor to the main staircase. My breathing was erratic, echoing in the curved ceilings. I took the steps two at a time, body still slow with sleep.

The sitting room was empty when I stumbled into it. There was no sign of Wolfe anywhere.

“No,” I whispered. “No, no, no.”

On the coffee table, the tiles had been rearranged.

G-O-O-D M-O-R-N-I-N-G.

“Fuck!” I plowed my fingers through my hair.

I’d been right. The sun rose and he’d vanished within its rays. Maybe last night was nothing but a dream—but no. There was a bandage on my hand. My bag was still by the door, soggy and damp with rainwater.

I hadn’t dreamt it.

He’d been here with me.

“Shit,” I muttered. The loss I felt made no sense. We were…we were barely on the same plane of existence. Separated by leagues of time, but I’d hoped… “Now what?”

“Avery?” Wolfe’s voice echoed behind me and I whirled, hand pressed to my heart.

It was with a level of relief I didn’t want to acknowledge that I said, “You’re here.”

He blinked, looking around the space in confusion. “Aye. Where else would I be?”

“I thought…” I gestured uselessly to the tiles. “I thought maybe it didn’t work. That you were gone already.”

His expression morphed into something akin to guilt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

I deflated, shoulders rounding. “It’s okay. I’m just—I’m glad that that’s not the case.”