The women and men screamed, the shadows lengthening, casting dark bands across their bodies, like ribbons of chains. Their arms stretched toward Maya, talons growing on their fingernails, smoke swirling around their writhing forms. What the heck was this??? Maya shook her head, adamant in her denial of wrongdoing. She needed blood to survive-it was that simple. She had followed the dictates of her family and had protected other species. While it was true that she had killed, and that she often felt superior with her skills and intelligence, she had kept that place that was for her mate, just in case. Around Maya, the wailing grew louder, but the shadows began to leach form and color from the faces. Several women pushed toward her and murmured invitations to her. She scowled at them. "I have no need nor want of your charms." She rasped out. "Feel. Feel. Touch me and you will feel again. My skin is soft. lean bring you all the way to heaven. You have only to give me your body one time and I will give you the blood you crave." The women chanted. The men had disappeared. She wondered why. She wondered too what was wrong with herself? If she had somehow dropped in a godforsaken place, that required that she drink blood. Shadows moved all around her and the women came out of the vines and leaves, burst through the earth itself and reached for her, smiling seductively. She. . .felt revulsion and bared her teeth, shaking her head. "I would never betray him." She said it aloud. "I would rather die of slow starvation." She said it in a low snarl, a growl of warning rumbling in her throat. Meaning it. "That death will take centuries." The voices weren’t so seductive now, more desperate and whining, more frantic than accusing. "So be it. I will not betray him." She replied. Right. Adam. Adam was him. Oh god, she needed to get out of here. "You have already betrayed him," one cried. "You stole a piece of his soul. You stole it and you cannot give it back." She searched her broken memory. For a moment she smelled a wisp of fragrance, a scent of something clean and fresh in the midst of the decaying rot surrounding her. New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on novelFɪre.net The taste of him was in her mouth. Her heart beat strong and steady. Everything in her settled. He was real. She took a breath, let it out, breathing away the shadows around her, yet more grief poured in. Adam. She needed him. She needed to see him, not this total rot and decay. "If I have committed such a crime against him, then I will do whatever he wishes." She said. Anything to pass time. She thought, still looking around her. But had she committed so great a sin that he had left her? Was that why the unfamiliar grief turned her heart to such a heavy stone? Around her, the faces slowly dissolved as the forms blurred even more, until they were only wailing shadows and the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach eased, even as her hunger grew beyond craving. She had a mate. She clung to that truth. Beautiful. Perfect. A man born to be her mate. Born for her. Maya shuddered as voices in her head once again grew louder, drowning out the sounds of the jungle. Little flashes of pain grew behind her eyes, burning and burning until she felt her eyes boiling. Where was Adam? Had he deserted her? The questions crowded in fast and loud, mixing with the voices until she wanted to hit her head against the nearest tree trunk. The inside of her brain seemed on fire, as did every organ in her body. Her heart nearly burst in her chest, and she sank down into the fertile soil where she had lain, trying to sort out what was real and what was hallucination. When she closed her eyes, she was in a pit, shadows surrounded her and red eyes stared hungrily. Perhaps it was all an illusion. Everything. Where she was. The vivid colors. The shadows. Perhaps her wish for a mate was so strong she had created one in her mind. Or worse-a witch had created one for her. "Maya. You have risen early. You were to remain in the ground a few more weeks. The Princess said to make certain you did not rise too soon." Maya’s eyes flew open and she looked warily around her. The voice held the same timbre as that of her mother, but it was distorted and slow, each word drawn out so that the voice, instead of resonating with familiarity, seemed demonic. Maya shook her head and tried to rise. Her body, usually graceful and powerful, felt awkward and foreign as she fell back to her knees, too weak to stand. Her gut knotted and rolled. The burning spread through his system. "Mother. I do not know what is happening to me." She was careful to keep her energy from spilling from that path. If this was an elaborate trap, she would not draw her mother into it. She loved her mother too much for that. The thought made her heart go still. Love. She felt love for her mother. Overwhelming. Real. So intense it took her breath away, as if the emotion had been gathering throughout the long centuries, building in strength behind a solid barrier where she couldn’t access it. "You must go back to ground, Maya. You cannot rise. You have journeyed long from the tree of souls. Your journey is not yet complete. You must give yourself more time." Maya withdrew immediately from her mother’s touch. It was the right path. The voice would be the same if it wasn’t playing in slow motion. But the words-the explanation was all wrong. It had to be. You couldn’t go to the tree of souls unless you were dead.