Chapter 246
The knock at the door pulls me out of what might be the deepest sleep I’ve had in my life.
My body aches in that strangely satisfying way, like I’ve been wrung out and filled back up again. The memories of last night flicker behind my eyelids—Wake’s mouth, his hands, his voice whispering me down from a nightmare I still can’t quite bear to look at directly. I keep my eyes closed for a beat longer, just to feel the warmth of him beside me.
Except—he’s not beside me.
The bed is empty.
Just like that, I’m back there.
That dream—no, that vision—is still stitched into the back of my eyelids. The moment I blink awake, it’s waiting for me. The red light, the screaming, the ground splitting apart underfoot as boiling geysers erupted like angry gods, scalding and swallowing everything in their path. I’d run until my legs gave out. I’d screamed for Wake until my throat burned. Until I couldn’t breathe.
Until Leviathan swallowed the sky.
Now, I sit bolt upright in the bed, heart slamming, gasping like I’m still trapped in the tidal wave’s pull. The sheets are tangled around me, damp with sweat. My hands spark faintly with residual static. The hum of residual power buzzes under my skin, and for a split second, I’m sure that everything has gone terribly, horribly wrong.
My breath catches in my throat.
Because I’m alone. The bed is empty and Wake is—
There’s another knock. Firmer this time.
The bathroom door opens and he steps out, already dressed, towel slung over his shoulder. His damp hair is darker, curling slightly at the ends. His bare feet are silent against the sterile floor as he crosses to the door. He’s all sleek muscle and stiff posture, jaw clenched like the day’s already pissed him off.
When he opens the door, it’s one of the facility guards—tall, dark-eyed, and unreadable behind his crisp uniform.
He says nothing. Just hand Wake a folded slip of paper.
Wake takes it with a grunt and shuts the door without a word.
I push myself up, the sheets slipping down my shoulders. “What was that?”
Wake stares at the note like it’s something rotten. “Shoal.”
That gets my attention. “What about him?”
He unfolds the paper and reads it aloud, flat and unimpressed: “Wake and Phoebe, I invite you to join me for breakfast this morning. I believe we have much to gain from one another’s company. Yours in shared blood, Shoal.”
I snort. “Yours in shared blood? Is that what passes for casual brunch etiquette in the Abyss?”
Wake doesn’t laugh. “He’s up to something.”
I swing my legs off the bed and stand, stretching out the knots in my back. “He’s always up to something. That’s kind of his thing.”
“I don’t want to go,” he mutters.
“I figured,” I say, turning to face him. He’s glaring at the note like it insulted him.
“There’s no point. It’s a performance. He wants to test us, see how far we’re willing to bend. If we show up, we’re giving him exactly what he wants.”
“Maybe.” I fold my arms and lean against the desk. “Or maybe we appeal to his better nature and he does us all a favor by deciding not to try and bring about the end of the world.”
Wake shakes his head, turning to me, eyes darker than they were a moment ago. “I would rather talk about what happened last night,” he says. “You were—”
“Wake,” I cut in.
“You nearly electrocuted both of us in your sleep. I think that takes precedence over Shoal’s theatrics.”
“It was just a dream.”
“No, Phoebe. It wasn’t.” He steps closer, his voice softer now. “Your hands were glowing when you woke up. You were shaking.”
I look down at those hands now, bare and still. “It’s over.”
“It’s not over,” he says, frustrated. “You’re pushing it aside because it scares you, and I get that, but we can’t keep doing this.”
“I’m not pushing it aside,” I lie.
“You haven’t even told me what it was about.”
I look up at him, deflecting the only way I know how—with heat. “You want to talk about nightmares,” I murmur, stepping into his space. “Or do you want to help me forget them?”
He frowns, eyes narrowing slightly as I trail my fingers up his chest. “Phoebe.”
“You didn’t seem to mind the distraction last night.”
“Last night, you were breaking apart. Right now, you’re deflecting.”
I lift onto my toes, brushing my lips against his jaw. “So?”
He growls low in his throat, catching my wrist gently and holding me at bay, just for a moment. “Unfortunately for you, I’m more evolved than that. You can’t seduce your way out of every vulnerable conversation.”
I grin, teeth flashing. “Watch me.”
He sighs, the tension in his body giving way just slightly. “Phoebe…”
I rest my forehead against his chest, breathing him in, letting his steadiness ground me. “We’ll talk. I promise. But not now. Not in here, not like this.”
A long beat passes. Then he nods, once.
“Fine,” he mutters. “But I’m not eating anything that bastard offers me.”
“Noted.” I lean back and smirk. “So we’re going?”
His expression is unamused but resigned. “We’re going.”
I press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Teamwork.”
He grunts and heads for the bathroom, muttering something about formal war crimes and bad coffee.
And I breathe, just for a second, letting the moment settle over me before I move. This is the deal. We show up. We play nice. And we figure out just how hard Shoal’s really willing to play.
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