Everything was hot and cold, all at once. My bones felt like they were nothing but ash, but I shivered violently.

"Shit," a voice said, sounding slightly panicked. "Selene, can you hear me?"

I had no voice. I was nothing but a thought trapped inside a charred mess. But even as I had the thought, I could feel the pain beginning to creep in, coating every inch of me. Wherever the searing heat had touched, there was now nothing but unending pain.

Hands. There were hands on my skin and I cried out against the pain, the first noise I could make.

"I know it hurts. But I need you to drink this for me, okay?"

Something cold pressed against my lips, before a liquid poured into my mouth. And I choked, suffocating as the liquid slid down my throat, like shards of ice, as they raked razor-sharp claws and they tore me apart.

"There you go. It'll stop the pain, okay? I promise."

Slowly, the pain ebbed away, chased by the ice-cold feeling spreading through my veins.

"She's more stable now. There's definitely less pain." The voice with me was speaking, but they weren't speaking to me. There was a pause, as if someone I couldn't hear was replying. Then, "Yes, I will monitor her. She doesn't need the nurse. It was just a build-up of magic. She's fine now. I will keep you updated."

A silence fell then, broken only by my labored breathing. Though the pain was less, every part of me still ached.

"Alright, this might hurt a bit," the voice said again. But the pain had lessened enough that I could finally make out who it was. Alek.

And then I was being touched again, hands sliding underneath me, against my back and behind my knees. I let out another whimper of pain against the movement and the touch against my skin. Whatever he'd given me had stopped most of the pain, but not all of it.

I felt myself being placed against something soft before I finally faded away. The pain ebbing enough to let me lose consciousness.

I was back in my bedroom at my mother's house. Except it was empty. A shrine of what is used to be. The bed, stripped, along with the dresser, devoid of all my belongings, was all that remained.

Someone had removed the curtains from the window, and light flowed in. Outside, I glimpsed the line of trees that surrounded the small side yard.

The body I inhabited, not Alek this time, felt worn out. Exhausted. A worn letter, as if read a million times, was in my hands.

"I'm so sorry, Selene. I thought I had more time. But I don't. The ways I've failed you are too many count. I hope this message gets through to you. Please, don't find me. It's too late. Keep yourself safe. And know that beyond anything, I've loved you. Even if I could not show it, even though I've kept you at arm's length, know that I've loved you. Be safe and well."

With a shaking hand, I pressed the letter between the mattress and the box spring, a few tears slipping down my cheeks and splattering against my pants.

I'd barely had time to conceal the letter before a figure entered the room, nearly blocking out all the lights coming in from the kitchen.

"Your time is up, Natalie. I know she's alive. You've protected her."

My blood ran cold as I looked up into the cold, unfeeling gaze of my step-father. But he seemed different. Taller, more brutish. Colder, even. Gone was the man sitting in his recliner, chain-smoking cigarettes. And in his place stood a worse monster. One who was after my mother.

My mother—and I—stood, our back straight, though tears still flowed freely. "I will not tell you where she is."

Vincent stepped further into the room, the light from the window illuminating him. It was as if he were a different person entirely. Gone was the large belly, the graying hairs that had crowned his balding head. Instead, he was fit, heavily muscled, like a true brute. His hair, though still balding, was less gray, more black.

A shiver crept down my spine as I noted the knife held in his hand. It looked familiar, too familiar. And with a start, I realized it was the same knife I'd held in a nightmare before, the nightmare where I'd killed Samantha.

His hand shot out, grasping my mother around her throat. I felt it as her airway cut off, as she gasped desperately for breath.

"Tell me where you've hidden her, Natalie, or I will make what's left of your life hell."

A choked, gasping sound left my mother's mouth, and I struggled as well, the dream turning black around the edges.

"Tell me where she is," Vincent growled again, bringing the blade up higher, pressing it directly under where his hand pressed against my throat. "Now, Natalie."

"Go to hell."

Vincent brought the knife up, handle first, and slammed it into my mother's skull. There was a flash of pain and then nothingness.

I woke with a start, choking and struggling to breathe.

"Selene?"

I turned, still gasping for air, toward the sound of Alek's voice. He was half out of the desk chair, eyeing me as if I were about to explode.

My stomach lurched as I thought about the dream, about Vincent's hand around my mother's throat. My throat ached, as if I'd been the one who'd been there instead.

"Selene? Are you okay?" Alek asked again, though he made no move toward me.

Without answering Alek, I threw off the blanket and ran into the bathroom, barely making it in time before I vomited into the toilet, my sides heaving with the effort.

"Damn it," Alek cursed as he entered behind me. He was behind me in an instant, holding back my hair and placing a soothing hand on my back.

Tears streamed down my face and my mouth tasted of blood and bile by the time I finished. I sat back against the wall, letting the cool tile break the hot flash that seared across my skin.

Alek was still there, watching me carefully. He stood for a second, just long enough to grab the glass sitting next to the sink and fill it with water. Wordlessly, he held it out to me.

I took it, breathing a word of thanks as I took small sips. It soothed the aching in my throat and took the sour taste from my mouth.

"What happened in your dream? It was odd, your emotions. Sadness, then anger, and pain. So much pain." His eyes narrowed in on my throat then, as if he could see the imprint of Vincent's hands there. But that wasn't possible, was it?

"I dreamed of my mother. It was the same as it was with you. She was sitting in my bedroom at home and I was seeing out of her eyes."

"That's not possible. You could only do that with me because of the Bond. Astral projection like that with anyone else isn't possible unless there's a spell involved." Alek's eyes once again focused on my throat. "She was injured in your dream."

I nodded. "Vincent kept asking where she was. I think—" I swallowed hard, feeling the ache in my throat again. "I think he was asking about me. She wouldn't tell him. So he started choking her, threatening her."

"I can see that."

I stood then, pushing past Alek so I could glance at myself in the mirror. Around the pale skin of my throat, a red imprint of a hand, of fingers, circled my throat. I touched it gently, feeling the slight tenderness of my flesh, and I winced at the sensation.

"How is this possible? Even in my other nightmares, I've never experienced actual injuries."

"You wouldn't. When your mind enters mine, it's in consciousness only. You might live in my head, but you aren't subject to anything that may happen physically. This is different. Your mother pulled you to her. She connected you, mentally and physically, for a short period. It's powerful magic."

I went silent, still staring at the marks across my skin. Imprints of Vincent. I thought I was done with all that now that I was here at Whitethorn. But even here, so far away, he still left me with bruises.

A tear slipped down my cheek. "I think he may kill her."

"He might."

I whirled on him. "And here I thought you being my Guide meant you were supposed to be supportive."

He gave a shrug of his shoulders. "You said you didn't like being kept in the dark. The truth is ugly. It's not meant to be snuggly and warm. Get used to it. I need to speak with Inara immediately as well."

"I deserve to be there."

Alek waved his hand at me. "I'm not allowed to leave you alone. So get dressed. Quickly."

I made a face at his retreating figure, but then hurried to do as he'd asked. I needed to know what happened to my mother and if she was okay. There was a nagging feeling deep in my gut that told me she was very far from okay, but I ignored it.

Dressing in a clean uniform, I tried to tug the collar up to hide the wounds around my throat, but I wasn't very successful. The reddening had deepened, bordering on purple. How was I supposed to hide this?

Alek's annoyed voice called from outside my bedroom door. "It's time to go. Get moving."

I took a deep breath, hoping that if I just kept my head down, then maybe no one would notice the bruising. Outside of my bedroom, Alek was waiting impatiently in the living area. Loki was sitting at his feet, but looking toward me. He gave a soft mew, then moved over to curl his body around my legs.

I bent down to give him a quick scratch around his ears before he disappeared over to the corner of the living space, where Alek had apparently set up his food bowl.

"Let's get moving," Alek said, barely glancing at me. "Inara knows that we're on our way."

"Okay." I made a move for the door, but Alek stopped me suddenly.

I yanked my arm out of his grasp, before turning to shoot him a glare. "You should cover that up."

"This is the best I can do," I seethed at him. "I have nothing else. Most of my things are still in my old room."

"For the love of—" Alek started, then cut himself off before stalking into his own bedroom. He emerged again a second later, something bundled in his hands. Without a word, he tossed it at me.

"Thank you," I muttered as I unfolded the scarf in my hands, then carefully wound it around my neck, covering the wounds.

Alek walked out of the dorm then, saying nothing. I followed behind him quickly, not wanting to be left behind. Maybe I was finally about to get some answers from Inara. At the very least, I was being included this time. It was more than I could have asked for.

Once outside, the faint light of day gave away just how early in the morning it was. The sun had barely crested over the line of pine trees and mountains in the east. Watery gray wasn't enough to combat the long shadows the buildings and trees cast over the campus. It made everything look more sinister and foreboding.

Alek said nothing as he moved across the campus, his long strides making me nearly run to keep up with him. The cold air stung at my sore throat as I inhaled deep breaths of ice with every step.

The Main Hall was eerily silent as we entered, our footsteps echoing around the entrance hall. Alek guided me up the three flights of stairs, the exertion not affecting him. But me? I was nearly completely winded by the time we reached the third floor landing.

I leaned against the wall for support, sucking in sharp breaths.

"Can you make it a few more feet or do I need to drag you in?" Alek's annoyance made me want to scream at him. But I had no energy or breath to spare.

"Screw you," I heaved at him, though with my panting, it sounded pathetic. Maybe that was why his mouth twitched into the ghost of a smile.

White-hot rage fueled me as I peeled myself from the wall, unwilling to give Alek the satisfaction of winning. Without knocking, Alek entered Inara's office.

Despite the early morning, Inara was already in her office, dressed for the day and ready for us. She gave us a small smile that didn't meet her eyes and gestured for us to sit down. Alek immediately sat in his usual chair, and I sat on the small loveseat I'd occupied with Ms. Rose.

"Your message sounded urgent, Aleksander. What's happened?"

With a look at me, Alek gestured to my scarf, silently urging me to remove it. Inara watched me curiously as I unwound the scarf, revealing the injuries there.

While Inara tried to hide her shock, I saw it flash across her face for a second before she schooled her features into neutrality.

"I think one of you should tell me where those came from."

Both of us were silent for a moment before I spoke. "It happened in a dream." I quickly recalled the details for her while she silently listened, tapping her nails across her desk.

When I finished, she sat there for a second, thoughtfully, before letting out a long sigh. "I had wondered if Vincent would eventually catch on to Natalie's game."

Her game? What game had my mother been playing?

"There's not enough time to tell you everything right now, Selene. For now, the basics. You know your father died when you were a small child. But what you don't know is that he was killed by a Hunter."

"A Hunter?"

"After you Emerged, I briefly told you about the Battle of Summit, where a group of people attacked our homeland, wishing to kill us all. These people call themselves Hunters. They've dedicated their lives to ending the race of the Varquay."

"Why?"

Inara shook her head. "Now isn't the time for that history lesson. These Hunters scattered after the Battle of Summit, hunting down those who fled. Your father was one of those they found."

So many emotions crashed through me, all tumbling and turning over each other. "It wasn't a car crash? Someone murdered him?"

Inara seemed sympathetic. "I know this is a lot to take in. But yes, someone murdered your father. And after, your mother took drastic measures to keep you safe. The Hunter came to town, expecting to find the rest of the family of the Varquay he had killed. He was unsuccessful, or so he thought."

"He found us, but never killed us. Why?"

"Your mother was playing a dangerous game. She decided that the best way to keep him from finding you was to hide you in plain sight. She did her best, used her strongest spells to keep any sign of your magical heritage a secret. And for nearly fifteen years, it worked."

I stayed silent, letting Inara continue her story. "Vincent never suspected that his wife and stepdaughter were the ones he was looking for. Not until the night of the bonfire, when your magic began to spontaneously Emerge. We still aren't sure how your magic bypassed your mother's magic or why that night in particular, but Vincent sensed you and he came for you."

"You know what happened the night of the bonfire? What happened to Samantha and Oliver?"

Inara shook her head. "I'm not aware of all the details, only the vague bits your mother shared with me. She said she used magic and got you out of there without Vincent knowing what had happened to you. Then she called me to come and retrieve you."

Her words spun through my head, though I didn't seem to grasp any of them. They were like liquid, running through gaps in my brain and falling through.

"And now," Inara continued, "it seems her game has ended. Vincent knows you're alive, and he also knows that she was not only protecting you, but knows where you are."

"He's going to kill her."

"Possibly. We aren't sure." But there was a waver in Inara's voice, like she knew the truth, but was unwilling to share it with me.

They may not be, but I was sure. Vincent's abuse of me over the years was nothing compared to what he'd done to my mother in that dream. And if he'd killed my father... then he was capable of more than I'd ever imagined. I was lucky to be alive. "He's going to kill her," I repeated, louder this time.

After a wave of uncomfortable silence, Alek said, "She may already be dead."