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“You know that’s not what I’m asking.” I put more distance between us. “What do you want, Jordan?” I look at him, deep in his eyes, and dare him to look away.
“Quell, you don’t know what you’re asking.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t. Because if you did, you wouldn’t ask it!”
“This isn’t only hard for you, Jordan.” I eye the time and snatch my sweater from the chair.
He keeps pulling me in, but he won’t acknowledge that he feels something. Letting me in but keeping me at arm’s length. As if he wants to have me without having me. And I’m sick of it.
“It almost felt different with you. Almost.”
“Quell, please.”
I grab the knob. “I don’t understand how you’re content living with so much of yourself in shadows.”
He rushes at me in a blur of black. “I am the shadow, Quell.”
“Well, I’ve lived a life in the shadows.” I pull open his door. “And I don’t recommend it.”
* * *
I shove away the frustration of Jordan and hurry to the foyer, then broom closet, and race down the corridor with minutes to midnight. Humid air welcomes me as I dash through the forest until the trees close in around me and the Chateau is a memory in the distance. My toushana curls in my bones, stretching itself awake, eager to be fed. Not now, I tell it.
I still, listening. But hear only wind.
“Nore?”
The Secret Wood is bleak, as still as a graveyard.
“Nore?” I say once more.
But she doesn’t answer.
No one does.
THIRTY-FIVE
It’s been two days since I stormed out of Jordan’s room, and my annoyance with him still simmers. Fortunately, Abby’s last-minute Cotillion preparations and my own have kept me busy. And now that her day is finally here, I can count on hopefully getting some answers about Nore from Mynick.
“How are you so relaxed? I’ve been a ball of nerves for weeks.” Abby turns both ways in the mirror, checking and rechecking every vantage point of her gown.
“You think I’m relaxed?” I’ve spent the last two nights thinking about Nore and that letter. I’d hoped she’d write again, letting me know that we missed each other. But nothing has come. The last few days have been mind spiraling, heart racing, toushana thirsting. Not to mention I’ve gone back to the forest to use my forbidden magic. Octos’s warning to keep my dark magic in check has haunted me, worrying me that I may be using it more than is okay. “Abby, I am far from relaxed.”
“Well, you play it off well.” She grabs her riband. “Help me with this, I can’t lift my arms.”
I lay the satin over her and adjust the fleur so it’s on her chest. “You look perfect.”
“Really? Don’t lie to me because I’m your friend.”
“Stop it. You couldn’t be more beautiful.”
“My dagger, where’s my—”
“It’s here.” I grab it, careful to hold it in the cloth it’s wrapped in, and hand it to her.
“Okay, I think I’m ready.”
