Chapter Eight

When I returned to my room, I was surprised to find Dallas there already. I wondered vaguely how he even got inside but I was mostly confused as to why he actually came. I didn't know he was serious.

He made himself at home, however. He was sprawled out on the bed, two pillows tucked behind his head, pulled from the top. One of his legs were hanging off the bed, his feet bare. As I opened the door, he looked over, his eyes looked dazed for a second before he smiled, sitting up and stretching.

"You sure took your time," he said, turning to face me. His eyebrows were slightly raised and his eyes were filled with an overconfident, knowing look, his lips pursed.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked, kneeling down to take off my boots.

He laughed, standing up and walking over to me. "Oh, nothing, nothing," he said as he leaned against the wall. He fell silent for long enough that I had time to get both the boots off and toss them off to the side. I gave him a questioning look before I walked further into the room. "So..."

"So what?" I inquired as I made my way to one of the leather chairs. They weren't very comfortable chairs. They weren't made to relax in, that's for sure.

"So—" he dramatically leaped onto my bed, rolling so he was laying on his stomach, facing me "—how was it?"

"It was fine," I said, my face heating up as I looked away.

Dallas gave a low whistle, resting his chin on his propped-up hands. "Was the food good?" he asked, trying to suppress a smile.

"It was fine."

"The drinks?"

"They were alright."

"The view?"

"It was fi—the 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵!?" Dallas broke out laughing, rolling over onto his back. Was he talking about the window? Did he know where we'd gone? Did he see us go through the library into the garden? Should I—

"I was joking," he said, laying on his side now. I sighed, relieved. "But did you find out why the King was so interested in you?"

"I—well, no, not really," I said. "I'm just more confused honestly."

Dallas hummed thoughtfully, tapping his chin. "Well, what'd you guys do? It took a while."

I felt my face flush and my eyes widen. But why? We hadn't done anything to be embarrassed about. "He asked me to tell him a story so I did," I said truthfully. He didn't have to know where I told him the story.

"He asked you to tell him a 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺?" he asked, his eyebrows scrunching together.

"Um—yeah," I said, lacing my fingers. I was so tired. Why was I so exhausted? I'd slept so much today.

What time was it anyway?

"Can I hear this story, too?" He whined, rolling onto his back, sprawling enough that his feet rested on the pillows at the head of the bed.

My lips made a soft popping noise as they parted. He wanted to hear the story, too? But why? He wouldn't get anything from it. It wasn't interesting and maybe I was confused about Tairen being curious but I was completely and utterly bewildered by Dallas' curiosity. Because it seemed so innocent. Because his eyes weren't filled with something sinister like Tairen's had been.

"Rye?" His voice brought me out of my head. I looked up at him, his head tilted back and his brown eyes meeting mine. He rolled to his side, pulling his knees to his chest. "You good?"

"Yeah—uh—great. I was just spacing out." I bit my lip, leaning back into the chair. "Its not very interesting."

"Well, what's it about?" He asked, turning over on his knees. He tilted his head and I couldn't help but think of Tairen.

My tongue traced the inside of my bottom lip before I lifted my finger to my eyebrow. "This," I said, dropping my hand.

His eyes squinted, leaning forward. "Wait, don't tell me," he said, clapping and lying on his stomach. He opened his mouth for a moment before letting it fall shut and flopping onto his back with a sigh. He ran his hands down his face with a groan. "I'm tirrrreed," he whined. "Can you tell me that story? I don't want to guess anymore and I think I'm just gonna get some shut-eye." He yawned and rolled over so he was only taking up half of the bed. "Do you mind if I stay the night? I haven't had a sleepover in years."

I didn't answer as I stood up, tossing him a pillow as I climbed onto the bed. My chest didn't hurt, my throat wasn't dry, my arms felt completely normal. And I was so close to Dallas and didn't feel like bolting.

Tairen's soft smile slipped into my mind. I hadn't had that feeling with him either.

"Hey," he said, poking my leg with his foot. "You can just say no. I can leave."

"No, no. I don't care what you do. I mean—I'd like you to stay if you want. But if you don't thats fine too. I just think—"

He laughed and I broke off. He turned to face me, his eyes half-lidded.

"When was the last time you had a sleepover?" He asked, his voice drowsy. I laid back, tucking my arm behind my head.

"Not since before eighth grade," I said.

He yawned, rolling to the foot of the bed, his feet hanging off the side. "I don't remember when I last had a sleepover. I remember having them but not with who or when."

"Figures," I said.

He sent me a glare, shoving my leg. "Damn you."

He laughed, sitting up and pulling the comforter out from under him and tucking the pillow I'd thrown at him under his head.

I stood up, digging through the cart of clothes Cedric had brought earlier. Once I found some sweatpants and a comfortable t-shirt, I excused myself to the bathroom.

After I changed, I washed my face and quickly brushed my teeth. Not only was my mind exhausted, but my entire body was. My legs felt like I'd been running miles and my arms felt like I'd been carrying boxes all day.

I folded the clothes I'd gotten from Tairen and set them on the counter. I still didn't think they were fit for a royal dinner.

When I returned to the bedroom, Dallas had moved to the floor, two pillows and a comforter accompanying him. However, the comforter on my bed was still there.

"Where'd you get that?" I asked, crawling onto the bed.

"The closet," he said with a yawn. The blanket was pulled up to his chin and when he sat up, he was dressed in nothing but a pair of shorts that he wasn't wearing before.

"And those?" I gestured to his shorts.

"Oh, I helped myself," he said, pointing to the cart.

"Okay," I said, leaning back on the pillows. I heard him flop back onto the ground.

"Are you gonna tell me now?"

"Tell you what?" I asked, staring up at the ceiling. I wondered how Kenny was doing. Such an odd time to remember him.

"Are you gonna tell me that story?"

"I—" my mouth snapped shut, my teeth digging into my lip. "If you want me to."

"I do."

"Okay then."

My stomach hurt, my back hurt, my wrists hurt. Everything was so painful and I can't quite remember why. Where'd I been? What'd I do? Where was I anyway?

It was dark but I could see the outline of a bed and two dressers. Now that I thought about it, I realized I was laying on a bed, too. It was filled with hard springs and only a thin sheet divided me from the bare mattress. The pillow was pretty thin, too.

I sat up and someone groaned on the other side of the room. The lump of blankets on the other bed moved and I met dark blue eyes. Then I remembered. His eyes weren't just dark blue and in this lighting, you couldn't tell, but they were laced with a beautiful silver.

A sharp pain cut through my temple and I winced, my eyes squinting. "Are you okay? You took quite a hit."

His voice was gruff as he sat up, rubbing his eyes. It sounded so caring but so dark at the same time. I guess I never really understood why his voice was like that. I still don't.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said. "What happened?" No stutter, no backtracking, no hesitation.

He swung his legs over the bed, leaning forward. His hair was more unruly than usual, the black and blond strips hanging over his eyes and spiking around his head. "You tried to leave," he said, shrugging. "I had a feeling you were going to do something stupid so I followed you after dinner and turns out I was right." He leaned back on his arms. "You got hurt trying to climb the fence. You're lucky I was there to help or you would have been worse off."

"Really?" I wondered, my eyebrows fitting my eyes with a glare. It was dark enough he wouldn't see. I remembered it now. I remembered sneaking out while everyone was getting ready for movie night. I remember how cold it was, enough that it felt like my skin was burning. Weird, how when the temperature dropped to a certain point, it started to burn. My hands were covered in gloves, the rubber helping to grip onto the cold metal.

The fence was twenty-three feet tall. I'd trained on the rock wall for weeks so that I'd be able to climb this with ease. With these gloves and the boots I had on, it should have been a piece of cake. But the height was not only intimidating, it was absolutely terrifying. My breath caught in my throat. It felt like a bone I couldn't swallow.

But I knew I had to get out. This was my only chance, they'd be watching more closely after tonight. I had to get out 𝘯𝘰𝘸.

I began to scale the fence but I hadn't made it ten feet before I was falling. For a moment it was peaceful but it was only an afterimage because after that, I couldn't hear anything or see anything. I was surrounded by an everlasting abyss of suffocating nothingness.

"I don't know why you would want to leave in the first place," he said, leaning forward once again. "Now not only are you going to have a scar but there's a chance you could get kicked out."

I leaned back on the bed. "I don't give a shit."

They always catch me but I still keep trying to run. I felt his presence before I saw him and when I turned to the side, he was standing up, closer to my bed.

"You should, that scar's gonna be there for the rest of your life," he said, brushing my eyebrow with his finger. A sharp pain cut through as the pressure got through the bandages and I suppressed the urge to flinch away. This cocky bastard wasn't going to pressure me into anything.

"I. Don't. Give. A. Shit." I glared at him as his face went blank. I wanted to get up because I felt at a disadvantage laying down but that would give him the satisfaction.

He leaned down, his breath hot on my neck. I grit my teeth. "Well, I do."

I jolted upright, coughing. My hands were shaking and I felt a drop of sweat run down the nape of my neck. It was dark again.

I could see someone lying on the bed beside me, sprawled out so much that I was practically on the edge of the bed. Was that 𝘩𝘪𝘮? I shook my head, glancing around the room. No, we were in the castle. We weren't even in the real world. We?

Dallas. That was Dallas. He'd moved from the floor to the bed. I wondered when. I also wondered if I'd told him the story. I'd dreamt about it, in more detail than I would have given Dallas so I hoped I hadn't told him all that.

I laid on my back, tucking my arm behind my head. Dallas had taken all the pillows but I didn't mind, he'd kicked off the comforters so I helped myself.

I turned away from him and smiled as he began to snore. I'd left my life behind but it still chased me. The only difference was now I had a means to fight back. I couldn't let my past catch me now, I was in too deep.

My eyes fell shut, but sleep was out of reach.