Back in Hudson’s lair, I’d resigned myself to believing that we were never leaving. I put Jaxon out of my head, wished everyone I knew a great life, and tried to move on. But then we left the lair—and the dragon didn’t kill us—and for the briefest moment, I allowed myself to believe maybe I could go home again.

Only to learn that I’m still trapped, still unable to ever go home, if what Maroly said about the barrier between our worlds is true.

Is it any wonder that I’m freaking out?

That it feels like there’s a weight on my chest and like the walls are closing in on me from every direction? I miss my family. I miss my friends. And the idea of spending the rest of my life without ever seeing them again is enough to send me spiraling.

I can’t breathe. And there aren’t enough clothes to straighten in the world to make it so I can.

Bending over, I brace my hands on my knees and concentrate on taking deep breaths.

In, one two three four five, out.

In, one two three four five, out.

The counting doesn’t touch it, so I move on to another technique Heather’s mom taught me.

Five things I can see: the black rug on the floor, the white curtains with black flowers, the black bedspread with white flowers, the black-and-gold lamp next to the bed, the vase of fresh purple flowers on the dresser.

In, one two three four five, out.

Four things I can touch: the soft blanket draped over the end of the bed, the smooth coolness of the white walls, the lightness of the T-shirt I’m wearing, the firmness of the bed as it springs back against my fingertips.

In, one two three four five, out.

Three things I can hear: a high-pitched whine outside the window, the rush of Hudson’s shower, the creak of the stairs as someone walks down them.

In, one two three four five, out.

The panic has receded, and I’m much calmer than I was, so I don’t bother with what I can smell or taste. But I do take a couple more deep breaths as I tell myself that it’s going to be okay. That I just have to take things one day—one hour—at a time. That somehow, I’ll find my way through this like I’ve found my way through every other horrible thing that’s happened to me since my parents died.

As long as that dragon decides to keep his distance, I can handle everything else. Including being stuck in a Shadow Realm indefinitely—and sharing this room with Hudson. It’s only for a day or two. I can do anything for forty-eight hours…as long as it doesn’t involve human sacrifice.