The Nightmare (The Mist Book 2)

Iwoke up feeling ridiculously well-rested and refreshed. My eyes popped at the sight of the time. I rarely slept in, considering it a waste of daylight. Normally, my running shoes were hitting the pavement by no later than 6:30 for my morning jog. But here I was, sprawled in the divinely comfy giant bed in my quarters well after 9:00 AM. I hopped out of bed with a spring in my step before heading to the bathroom for my morning ablutions.

Whatever dream Zain had thrown me into after our little confrontation had been wonderful. I hated that the details eluded me. I couldn’t even remember what it had been about or where it had taken place; only that it had made me happy. And yet, every single moment and conversation during my time in the Mist with my Nightmare—or Darkest Desire as he labeled himself—was crystal clear in my mind.

Zain both confused and fascinated me. There was no question he was a psychopath. And yet, as much as he enjoyed terrifying others—yours truly included—and taking the lives of those he considered lesser, he didn’t actually want to hurt me. He terrorized me in order to please me, not realizing his actions had the exact opposite effect. Zain wanted my approval, but his understanding of what I wanted was twisted by the lenses through which he saw the world.

The lenses I gave him.