Valentino was back again in her dreams. And this time, his face did not move.
"The monster in the water is dangerous."
"I know that now," Rue spat. "I know I was being fucking stupid." She was angry, super fucking agitated. And he could just be a hallucination, or a dream. Her rage rose like a tide. "You said to go under the island. I wanted to swim around it. I didn't think the fish would actually grab me and try to break my fucking leg. Rookie mistake."
"Cetus was made to catch you if you leave the island."
"With that force? It'll fucking kill me," Rue snorted, voice breaking on the edge of a laugh. She couldn't help the tears from bubbling up in her eyes now. "When the Titan comes, it's going to split me into two."
Valentino didn't answer. His eyes were flat. "I told you to roast the root."
"I tried." Her voice was trembling. "I spent six hours spinning the fucking stick until my hands bled."
She showed her hands up at him, then with a glare, desperate for him to see. Her palms were raw, bleeding, split open. Dream Rue was just as damaged as Island Rue. She'd spent the rest of the day feeling sorry for herself, feeling like the biggest idiot in the world. She'd tried to be productive, harvesting the roots, hacking at the trees for wood, and building a small, damp pile stored in the lighthouse.
But fire?
Fire was fucking hard.
"Got it to smoke," she said bitterly, "but I keep failing to start the spark. The air's too wet. These sticks are shit. The wood's not made for fire. It's fake, like everything on this fucking rock—"
"Try again."
Her voice cracked, heart aching. "Easy for you to say."
She glared at him then, eyes sweeping over him. His voice was monotonous, his face too frozen. The lack of emotions scared her, the way his brows remained stiff. His eyes were just so damn blue like burnished glass.
"I don't trust you," she whispered. "Who are you?"
He merely stared. "It's me."
"Come down onto the island," her voice trembled. It sounded like she was almost begging. "And then we'll talk."
"I can't." The bastard seemed to glitch when he said it, flickering like a bad recording.
She swallowed. "Where are they?"
"Who?"
"Your emperors. The people who said they loved me. The men who said they'd do anything for me. Where are they?" Her fury rose. "Where the fuck are they?"
He didn't answer.
Her laughter bubbled from her. Broken. Horrible. In pain. "I'm starting to think," she pointed at her head, "that this is some fucked up simulation and you are just some voice note to fuck with my head. I'm talking to a team of jailers now, aren't I? What are we? Experiment 3? Test message 22?"
Valentino stared blankly at her. "I told you to go under the island. So go under the island."
"Don't just tell me what to do."
He remained as calm as death. "Go under the island." She felt miserable. She couldn't recognise him. There was wetness in her eyes. She was just so fucking angry and so fucking scared.
"I'm not some jungle expert, Valentino! The cliffs are too damn steep! I'm a weakling! I've searched the place! Humans are lowly ranked on the scale of strength," she snarled. "Look, you know what? Maybe I'll just do something fucking stupid. I've already destroyed my leg. Might as well throw myself off the fucking lighthouse—"
Something cracked within him. His face twisted. There was emotion now, a sharp flash of it on his face. A rare tic in his jaw. His rage darkened in his eyes. She enjoyed it, lapped at it. Real emotion, jagged and fast. "Don't."
"You're giving me ideas."
His voice was flecked with something new now. It was dizzying. A whine, an almost growl. It hit her hard in the chest. "I told you what they'll do."
"It'll get me out of here," she said. "I'm going insane. I'm bleeding, starving and hallucinating. I don't even know if you're even real!"
"It will be nothing but pain," his voice was shattering, like the sound of glass, rising into a snarl. He stepped closer now, and her Omega whined within her. She could feel him now, the heat of him singing through their bond, pulled taut like an anchor at sea. She was right, this was her mate. Not a recording. Not a hallucination. "They're not even doing a thing for your leg, and it's getting inflamed. You're already poisoned."
She faltered.
"Rue, you're dying."
He scrubbed a hand across his face then.
"They don't care. They wouldn't give a fuck if you died a violent death. Because they want you dead, too." He heaved through a breath, hand to his heart. "Starving yourself and hurting yourself to the point of infection. They'll eventually save you if they can get to you, but they'll wait till you're seizing. They'll wait until your heart stops; they'll push it because they want you dead."
The ghostly image wavered, twitching through another glitch. She thought she saw the glimmer of wetness in his eyes, the dewy quiver of tears. His voice cut raw. His image flickered, fading in and out. And for a heartbeat, she saw him cry, the sound of it breaking her apart.
"If you tried anything violent, they'd write it off as some fucked up accident," he choked out. The terror was thick in his voice, and she could see it now in his eyes. The pain. "Don't you fucking get it? We're not supposed to feel a thing for you, and if we do, they'll just fucking shoot you in the fucking head—"
"Valentino—"
He grimaced then, eyes widening, a fleck of fear twisting through his features. His lips parted into a soundless scream. And for a moment, horror shot straight through her, hands reaching for him. His image cracked, warped into a blackhole. Her Omega was screaming.
Valentino. Valentino. Valentino.
And then Rue heard it.
He was screaming.
Not in the dream. Outside of it. Somewhere real.
It tore through her chest like lightning, snapped sharp like a whip upon her soul. She could feel it. The flash of pain flooded the bond, sharp and endless. It burned through her veins, molten unfurling. His agony bled into hers, twisting, writhing, until it felt like her heart was being sawed into two.
She tried to reach him. Her mouth moved soundlessly. Valentino. Valentino. Valentino. And then he was gone. She could still hear him screaming, wailing in the distance, his voice cracking through pain, suffering, breaking bonds, melting bonds, twisting bonds. He was writhing in pain, in absolute agony—
She woke up gasping, her bond seemed to flare, the aftermath of agony still roaring from within her chest, twining through her limbs. Her chest convulsed, the bond flared bright and raw. It hurt to breathe.
And her eyes turned to her ankle. The swelling was growing. It was worse now, a spiderwebbing of dark veins running up her legs. Shame roared through her veins then, a prick of tears welling, a sudden rush of self-loathing growing. She was crying before she knew it. The thoughts were cruel and heavy.
Idiot.
She should have known that they were hurting Valentino too. Hurting him for being mated to her. They were probably doing everything to break the bond. And what about the others? What about Altair, Halcyon, Seraphim, Levi, Kieran, Dante— Her breath caught in her throat, hands reaching for the claim on her neck. The gentle dip of scarring, the barely healed flesh. The scar of her Alpha.
She collapsed into a sob, pulse under her fingertips.
She needed to think.
She needed air.
The room spun, and she dragged herself up. She pushed open the door, wanting nothing more than a breath of shitty salt. But her gasp was violent as it came out noisily from her throat, eyes sweeping over the new view.
She froze.
The island was now gone. The world had become water. The sea rising to swallow the land whole, flooding the trees, the cliffs, the beach. The lighthouse was the only thing left now, cutting above the black ocean.
And somewhere below, a giant shadow moved.