Alaric looked up at me, his voice low and flat, but his eyes sharp like the edge of the sword he'd been polishing.
"What is it?"
I paused.
The truth sat at the edge of my tongue—bitter, volatile, and far too heavy to spill freely. There was no way I could tell him what I actually planned to do.
That I was going to sever my own soul.
That I was going to dive into the twisted dreams of over fifty people.
That I'd kill them all… just to save them.
No. He'd think I was insane. Hell, even I wasn't sure if I wasn't.
So instead, I forced a vague smile and said, "Just… thinking of trying something. Something risky."
He raised an eyebrow, barely. "Risky?"
"Desperate times," I said with a shrug, as if it were nothing. "I'm just going to try something I've read about before. Nothing too drastic."
I hoped he'd protest. Tell me I was out of my mind. Stop me, maybe even order me not to do it.
I needed someone to say, 'You're being reckless, don't do it.'
But Alaric just stared at me.
