Blakeshire (Insight #9)(56)

I felt a cold stare and moved my gaze—standing in the threshold of the door the priests were leaving from was where that stare was coming from.

I lost my breath for an instant. It was Britain. He was dressed in a sharp black suit, one that seemed all too fitting to his dominant personality. What the hell was he doing here? Britain let a smug smile come to his visage right as I passed above him. I moved my eyes forward as if I didn’t see him.

The walls returned as our entourage traveled through several other vast halls and open rooms.

As we approached a golden doorway, Drake stepped closer and took my hand; seeing that Drake had made that move, the others halted their walk. With a glance, Drake willed the doors to open for us. Now there was nothing but a dead end in front of us. Maybe twenty doorways down there was yet another set of golden doors.

All at once, the air grew bitterly cold. At first I thought it was coming from Drake because his emotion was near wrath at that point, but when a growl echoed around us I knew we were not alone; something sinister was lurking behind the veil of my vision.

Because we refused to acknowledge it, that arctic air chose to vibrate the paintings on the walls, even overturn a few narrow couches that lined the way.

With nothing more than a glance from Drake, the doors at the end of the wall opened before we reached them once again.

Whatever was toying with us didn’t want us to walk any farther. The growl grew louder. I saw the air move as it pounded against the threshold we aimed to cross.

I listened intently for any whispers of the damned. The first time I came to this palace, they were so loud that I thought my eardrums were going to burst. The night of that fake courting, they were loud, too. But now, nothing. Maybe I’d lost that, too, when some unseen force decided to reprogram my insights. Either that or they were hiding from this evil that was lurking.

Drake gripped my arm, encouraging me to walk faster as rage flared in his emotions.

When we reached the doors, he put his arm around my waist then insisted I pass through.

As soon as we passed the threshold, the door shut and a stainless steel plank that looked like it weighed more than the doors themselves slid into place, effectively locking and barring the doors tight. Right then, the doors started to shake viciously as a roar bellowed on the other side.

“Not a fan of doors?” I mocked, still looking less than happy to be here. I wanted to ask him why he smiled at those girls, but I would be damned if he ever knew I was jealous of them. I wasn’t playing that game anymore.

“Not a fan of salt,” he said through a locked jaw. “Every one of these walls is lined with three inches of it, and just to be thorough, protective herbs make up another layer.”

This was the delay? I thought as I glanced behind me. I never assumed he had kept me from coming here before because he was building this hall, a place that he knew would keep me safe.

This hall was wider than the others; a few doors down, the walls broke out into a large oval where large leather couches and chairs were sitting. It reminded me of when Aden’s dad would book a floor at a five-star hotel for the bands he was managing, only this was far more luxurious.

There was even a spiral staircase that led to another floor with more eccentric doors.

The floors and walls were a mix of white and black marble. Large chandeliers lit the way. It wasn’t like the rest of the palace; it looked way more modern and edgy. It looked ‘real’ to me.

Drake tensed his shoulders and said, “I need you to stay here.”

“What? So you passed the test by not sending me back to Chara—and instead you built me a prison?”

“Does this look like a prison to you?” His tone was cold, hurt.

“Feels like one,” I threw back at him. “I have stuff to do.”

“Yeah, well, so do I.”

My eyes narrowed on him. “Yeah, I bet you do.”

With a mix of anger and confusion in his emotions, his dark eyes cascaded over me.

“You can’t keep me here,” I argued as I glared at him.

“Do you want me to go and get Landen for you? Have him usher you off to his perfect little dimension so you can sit in a field and draw butterflies?”

I felt like I had just been kicked in the stomach. I stared at him like he was a fool. I thought we were safe in this room, that no one could see or hear us—and if that were the case, why was he acting so coldly?

“No. I want you to let me out of here. You have more than a few traitors that you are letting too close to you.”

“Are you calling my brothers traitors, or the people they have selected?”

“No, I know they’re legit.”

“And now I’m not. You know, I really thought this would hold together longer than five seconds after returning.” His stare was callous as it raked over me. Whoever that boy was that I had spent the day with had vanished.

“Yeah, well maybe Alamos shouldn’t have been waiting on us.”

“Don’t you worry about him. I will deal with that. Right now.”

He turned, and with a glance from him the plank locking the door was raised. The roar on the other side vibrated the door viciously. Within a beat of my heart, he was gone, and I was left standing there wondering what was real and what was not.



Drake



Rage was boiling through me. This could have not gone worse. I ignored Donalt’s ghostly temper tantrum as I made my way to the other end of the hall where I found Chrispin and his men.