The Unlikely Resident of Room 313

Chapter 17

The room was upside down.

No, not upside down.

I was upside down.

Splayed out on the plush carpet, my arm twisted beneath my back, my legs propped awkwardly up on the beanbag chair, I blinked away the stars that circled my vision. The scent of burning strawberry-melon delight candle lingered with another more sulfuric stench, and with a groan, I forced myself to move before my arm went completely numb beneath me.

What the hell just happened?

One second, the ritual seemed to be going well and I felt something akin to magic course through my veins, and in the next, it felt like a flash-bomb went off in my head and—

Roy's angered presence filled the room. "What did you do, sweetheart?" he hissed.

I whirled around in the direction of his voice, confused when the space around me was empty.

"Up here."

I sucked in a breath. Whereas I had been thrown to the ground by whatever reaction came from Roy's interruption of my ritual, he had been thrust toward the ceiling, arms and legs fanned out and pinned by an invisible force. Head hanging, he flexed against the restraints, unable to break free.

"What happened?" I asked, stunned.

Roy's glare was murderous. "I should be asking you!"

"I didn't do anything!" No, that wasn't true. Oh, crap. I'm in trouble.

"Yes, you're definitely in trouble, sweetheart!" Roy said bitterly, and strained against the force again, the veins in his arms and neck pulsing gold beneath his pale skin, the furniture of the room rattling beneath him.

"We'll fix this!"

Frustration coiled in my belly and I anxiously searched the room for a solution. Think, Asteria! Think! I grabbed the broom next to my dresser.

"What are you going to do with that? I'm not a fucking cobweb, Asteria!"

"At least I'm trying something!" I argued.

The longer Roy was up there, the more scattered my thoughts became, until I couldn't think straight or understand what was happening around me. Anxiety tightened around my throat and I blindly dove for the damned book that got us in this mess, desperately flipping through the pages for anything to set Roy free.

"Asteria—"

"Hold on!" Color blurred into color. Words turned into fragmented symbols across my vision. My pulse slammed through me. Nothing! There was nothing in here that could help!

"Asteria!"

"What?" I screamed.

"Breathe, dammit!"

The book trembled in my palms.

"You can't help me if you're having a panic attack," he said. Another expression, one filled with confusion and pain, crossed his features. I'd never seen him visibly swallow before. He looked like he wanted to say more but restrained himself—most likely from this whole shackled-to-the-wall-predicament—and sagged into the empty space in front of him.

"Tell me what I need to do," I pressed.

Roy was silent for a moment. I glanced back down at the book in the hopes that it miraculously opened to the right page. Love Spell for the Unrequited. I slammed the book shut.

"You know, the broom might not be a bad idea."

"You're joking," I said with an exhausted laugh.

"Not entirely." Roy hummed and murmured something under his breath. "Your ritual was all about intentions, right?"