A Curse of Shadows

Only then do I drop to the floor, bring my knees to my chest, and let myself break. A lifetime of heartache allowed me those few moments of resolve and resilience, but being alone, I can’t find the strength to pretend everything is okay.

For a brief few seconds, hope trickled through. A part of me wanted to be their lost princess, wanted the family in that photo. Even if I don’t understand anything that’s happened since I began crossing that bridge, I know grief.

It doesn’t matter that I’m in a world that shouldn’t be real yet feels familiar, that the people here seem confident they know me. I can’t recall any of them, and I’ve been teased with the idea of parents, only to be told they’re unavailable to me. All that and I’ve been here for maybe four hours.

Until I can figure out how to get back home, the power of who these people think I am feels like my only lifeline. If I have to be Princess Isobella to get the hell out of here, then that’s what I’ll do because there’s nothing more that I want than to go back to my apartment in Portland, pack up my shit, move to Seattle, and never speak of this craziness again. Not even to Elodee.

Too many hours later, I’m still no closer to getting out of here than I was this morning. Yet because I don’t understand how this place works, I feel as if I have no choice other than to do just as I have. Though my patience will only last through the daylight hours.

Once the bright, orange sun that I’ve been watching has finally disappeared and the double moons return, I’ll move on to Plan B.

Several times, I’ve been tempted to walk out of this bedroom and go back to the cave to figure things out for myself, but the more thought I put into this, the less ideal that seems.

While I’ve only seen four people, each of them has known exactly who I am—or who I once was or whatever—and something tells me that “sneaking” anywhere around this place will be next to impossible during the day.

Cain at least continues to bring me food, most recently dinner, when he comes with his non-update updates about the portal needing the right energy to open on Earth again. I’m not sure I believe him, but at least the food is delicious.

I pick at the toasted bread covered in what I assume is cheese and which came with a pasta creation I don’t have a name for, but I don’t eat much. Half because I’m still full thanks to the previous two meals and half because every other minute, my gaze shifts toward the door, hoping that the next time it opens will be when I’m able to leave.

My restlessness only intensifies, especially when I can’t seem to forget that Asher said he’d speak with me in the morning, yet he never showed. Why I even care, I’m not sure, but it bothers me that I seem to have been forgotten.

I stand from the table, unsure what to do. I search the bedroom and as much as the main door calls to me, I decide to step out onto the balcony again. I haven’t been out there since I saw the wild wolf running rampant across the back yard last night, but maybe with the sky not quite dark yet, the view will be less intimidating.

Just as my bare foot touches the concrete landing, the bedroom door behind me opens. Wind whips past me, seeming to swirl through the room before blowing right back toward my still form. My hair tangles in front of my face and I hold on to the chair in front of me.

A warmth builds deep within me, and I close my eyes, taking a deep inhale. An earthy, cedar scent envelops my entire being, assaulting every sense. My vision flickers, my heart thundering loudly in my ears as my stomach swirls with foreign emotions.

“Isobella.” The name is spoken with a deep grumble and filled with an authority that can only belong to one person: Asher.

It takes me more time than I like to get my head right. I don’t know why my body would betray me like this, but the two of us are going to have a long talk once we get the hell out of here.

As soon as I’m turned around, I nearly lose my shit all over again.

This entire world is out to get me. I’m convinced of that.

Asher stands inside my bedroom, his eyes pinned on me. He’s put together and in control—everything I don’t feel—dressed in a white, collared shirt. His sleeves are rolled up his thick forearms and the top few buttons are undone, exposing just enough of his chest to distract me.

Oh, hell. Am I really that woman? Apparently so because against everything I want to feel, I can’t deny that this man is sexy. He is the embodiment of control and composure, yet there’s an untamed edge to him that sets my heart racing just by his mere presence. Nobody has said as much, but these feelings make me wonder… Who was he to me before? Why does he seem so furious with me?

He rubs the back of his neck with one hand and shoves the other in his pocket, standing there almost as if he has nothing and everything to say all at once.

And because I can’t seem to control myself around him, I speak first, barely containing my frustrations. “Are you here to take me to the portal?”

I swear his face pales for the briefest of seconds, but then his eyes pierce right through me as they narrow in my direction. “You truly want to leave after only having just returned?”

“Of course I do,” I say with a bravado I don’t truly feel. “Why should I stay?”

“For…” He pauses, seeming to choose his words wisely. “For your people.”

I glance behind me, out the balcony, and toward the forest before addressing him. “This isn’t my home.”

“Bullshit!” His outburst has me spinning back around, but by the time my eyes are on him again, he’s returned to being the epitome of calm, both hands now in his pockets. “Just give us a chance.” He pauses once more. “Please.”

The way he says “us” makes my chest tighten with a tension that I don’t understand and don’t want to dig further into as I say, “I have a home and family to get back to.”

His eyes widen ever so slightly and his jaw tightens. “A family?”

“A sister,” I clarify. “She needs me, and I need her.”