its own entity.
He imagined unfurling his wings and snapping his tail against a bolder. He envisioned looking into the water and seeing the long tendrils that ran from the top of his head down his back as well as shorter ones surrounding his mouth—and obsidian eyes staring back at him.
When Ulrik opened his eyes he stared down at black talons and silver scales. He smiled and spread his wings wide.
Chapter Forty-two
How did one find their way in their own mind? That’s what Kinsey faced. She wasn’t sure what to do or where to go. Tristan made it sound so easy, and yet there was nothing but white all around her.
First nothing but darkness. Now this.
Black and white.
Was that a metaphor? Or was it simpler than that and she just needed to cling to something that sounded realistic?
Kinsey squared her shoulders. There was no one but herself there, no one she could turn to for help. She’d been on her own for three years. During that time she’d learned how to do all those things her stepfather and then Ryder had done for her like fixing a leaky faucet or hanging a new light.
But this was different.
This wasn’t something she could attempt on her own using YouTube or Google before calling in professionals if she screwed things up.
If she messed this up, that was it. There was no do-over or reset button.
Would she even know if she totally botched things? That was a sobering—and alarming—thought. It only added to her stress level, ramping her anxiety up to the point that she thought she might vomit.
It was her mind. Who knew her better than herself?
Kinsey crinkled her nose. Well, other than trying to lie to herself on occasions, ignoring her instincts, and not being true to herself.
Right now her mind looked blank. She didn’t know which way to walk or even if she should. But she couldn’t stay still. Remaining where she was only ensured one thing—her death.
She turned in a circle, but there was no blinking sign that told her where to go. With no other choice, Kinsey started walking.
“You came here to spy on Dreagan and Ryder. We all know how you’ve betrayed him.”
Tristan’s words played over and over in her head. She could shout her innocence all she wanted, but no one was going to listen. She heard the accusations in Tristan’s words.
That could only mean that Ryder had found some damning evidence that pointed right to her.
Except she hadn’t done anything. Kinsey knew that for a fact.
There might have been times she wished he’d was the mole in a Whac-A-Mole game, but she’d never wished Ryder any real harm. How could she when she’d loved him?
There hadn’t been a soul at Kyvor or anywhere else who’d approached her about Ryder or Dreagan. That wasn’t something she’d forget. So if no one spoke to her, and she hadn’t gone to anyone, what evidence did Ryder have?
Kinsey wouldn’t know until she found her way through her mind and was able to wake.
If this wasn’t all some kind of trick.
That drew her up short. What if it was a trick? What if it hadn’t been Tristan who she’d spoken with? Ryder knew she was innocent of anything. He would never let any harm come to her, and he certainly would’ve found some way to talk to her with Tristan.
What was real and what wasn’t? Somehow Kinsey was going to have to sort it out. She might not be in her mind at all, but in some prison and pumped with drugs.
With the missing time from when she woke in Ryder’s room to finding herself here, anything could’ve happened. It could’ve been moments or days that she was missing.
She squeezed her eyes closed and halted her thoughts. Her imagination was leading her down all sorts of paths, and only one of them was the right one. If she didn’t listen to her feelings and follow her heart, it would all be for naught.
Kinsey drew in a deep breath. As she slowly released it, she opened her eyes. Unfortunately she was still in the all-white room.
“What’s real?” she asked
He imagined unfurling his wings and snapping his tail against a bolder. He envisioned looking into the water and seeing the long tendrils that ran from the top of his head down his back as well as shorter ones surrounding his mouth—and obsidian eyes staring back at him.
When Ulrik opened his eyes he stared down at black talons and silver scales. He smiled and spread his wings wide.
Chapter Forty-two
How did one find their way in their own mind? That’s what Kinsey faced. She wasn’t sure what to do or where to go. Tristan made it sound so easy, and yet there was nothing but white all around her.
First nothing but darkness. Now this.
Black and white.
Was that a metaphor? Or was it simpler than that and she just needed to cling to something that sounded realistic?
Kinsey squared her shoulders. There was no one but herself there, no one she could turn to for help. She’d been on her own for three years. During that time she’d learned how to do all those things her stepfather and then Ryder had done for her like fixing a leaky faucet or hanging a new light.
But this was different.
This wasn’t something she could attempt on her own using YouTube or Google before calling in professionals if she screwed things up.
If she messed this up, that was it. There was no do-over or reset button.
Would she even know if she totally botched things? That was a sobering—and alarming—thought. It only added to her stress level, ramping her anxiety up to the point that she thought she might vomit.
It was her mind. Who knew her better than herself?
Kinsey crinkled her nose. Well, other than trying to lie to herself on occasions, ignoring her instincts, and not being true to herself.
Right now her mind looked blank. She didn’t know which way to walk or even if she should. But she couldn’t stay still. Remaining where she was only ensured one thing—her death.
She turned in a circle, but there was no blinking sign that told her where to go. With no other choice, Kinsey started walking.
“You came here to spy on Dreagan and Ryder. We all know how you’ve betrayed him.”
Tristan’s words played over and over in her head. She could shout her innocence all she wanted, but no one was going to listen. She heard the accusations in Tristan’s words.
That could only mean that Ryder had found some damning evidence that pointed right to her.
Except she hadn’t done anything. Kinsey knew that for a fact.
There might have been times she wished he’d was the mole in a Whac-A-Mole game, but she’d never wished Ryder any real harm. How could she when she’d loved him?
There hadn’t been a soul at Kyvor or anywhere else who’d approached her about Ryder or Dreagan. That wasn’t something she’d forget. So if no one spoke to her, and she hadn’t gone to anyone, what evidence did Ryder have?
Kinsey wouldn’t know until she found her way through her mind and was able to wake.
If this wasn’t all some kind of trick.
That drew her up short. What if it was a trick? What if it hadn’t been Tristan who she’d spoken with? Ryder knew she was innocent of anything. He would never let any harm come to her, and he certainly would’ve found some way to talk to her with Tristan.
What was real and what wasn’t? Somehow Kinsey was going to have to sort it out. She might not be in her mind at all, but in some prison and pumped with drugs.
With the missing time from when she woke in Ryder’s room to finding herself here, anything could’ve happened. It could’ve been moments or days that she was missing.
She squeezed her eyes closed and halted her thoughts. Her imagination was leading her down all sorts of paths, and only one of them was the right one. If she didn’t listen to her feelings and follow her heart, it would all be for naught.
Kinsey drew in a deep breath. As she slowly released it, she opened her eyes. Unfortunately she was still in the all-white room.
“What’s real?” she asked
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