HUNDRED TWENTY ONE

DIMITRI'S POV

I awoke with a start, finding myself on the cold, hard floor. The chill sent shivers through my body. Blinking rapidly, I struggled to shake off the haze of unconsciousness. As my vision cleared, I noticed intricate rune drawings on the floor beside me, softly glowing in the dim light. My heart sank as I recognized the teleportation sigil. Beside it lay Neal, motionless, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.

That could only mean one thing. Camille had knocked him out cold, too, and gone to Abigail alone.

An admission that heavy made my skin crawl.

“No, no, no,” I muttered, my body starting to tremble. “Camille, what have you done?” I approached the rune, my steps heavy and reluctant, each one echoing my growing dread.

Without wasting time, I turned and opened the door, my mind racing. I needed help, and I needed it fast. I hurried down the hallway, my thoughts a chaotic swirl of worry and rage. I was angry at Neal, and more importantly, I was angry at myself.