Chapter 15 #3
He was also choosing to have faith in Carwyn. He was... trusting her, had been trusting her, and she’d never known.
Her eyes crinkled with a strange fondness as her heart softened for him. That explains the gifts. He wanted to give back, maybe apologise in his own way, offer her comforts and support silently while she did this task.
She still wanted to kick him because she’d been terrified the entire time of him discovering her subterfuge and making a meal out of her.
“Dream walking is a rare ability, even among my kind,” Kier added, obtaining a book with half-hearted interest before glancing at her with an odd, assessing eye. There was something in it, something soft. “Quite fearsome. Balor would’ve liked having someone to speak to about it.”
That was the second time he’d referenced his late brother having this ability. It caused her brows to draw together over something he’d mentioned off-handedly before.
“What is your name?” she asked.
I swear I heard Aysu say something as well.
The corners of his maw twitched. “Kier.”
Her eyelids lowered dully as she tilted her head. “Your title, Kier.”
In the blink of an eye, the outline of his body wavered with thick, black smoke. The book in his hand fell to the ground with a clatter, and in the next beat of her heart, he was before her.
Except he wasn’t. No, there was a minor delay, as if his body was catching up to fill in the space of the ethereal, smoky version of himself. Haunting red eyes glowed within it. Somewhere along the way, he’d increased his size, now standing a head taller than her.
A breath punched out of her as she stumbled back.
“I hunt with illusions.” He twisted his head, and her gaze caught with his, becoming stuck.
Or perhaps the cold peer of his ruby eyes was so enthralling that it was impossible to look away as darkness began to fill the room.
Not shadows, not smoke, just... darkness.
“It’s doubtful a witch would be able to capture me. ”
Then, suddenly, it all faded away, the inky darkness sucking back to wherever it came from... and he was once again in the spot he’d been before, still holding the book, as if he hadn’t moved an inch.
What he’d first said finally latched in her mind, and she covered her mouth. He said illusions. Which meant none of what she’d just seen was true.
“Aysu called you Nightmare yesterday,” Carwyn whispered.
“Yes, that’s my title. I seek my prey in the dark and warp their minds, incapacitating them so I can kill them.
” He placed the book down with a smug lift of his head.
“I’m also quite versatile with my dragoncraft.
Night is best for camouflage, and it is our bloodline’s speciality, hence the colour of our scales.
We all had our strengths. I’ve explained Balor’s, and I’m sure you can understand how he snuck into his prey’s minds to terrorise them before killing them in their sleep.
Selene can produce shadows in which to hide.
A noble ability, one that has given her the title ShadowStalker.
I can also do this, but not as confidently.
How she was captured in the first place eludes my understanding. ”
“That would mean you’ve killed many of my kind.”
She doubted any witch would survive an attack from him. Even a coven would struggle to combat such powerful magic. He had to be cunning, calm, and strong to manipulate it in such a way.
“You would think so, but no. I had no desire to hunt, to court my own death. Tricky doesn’t mean infallible, and I didn’t wish to leave Selene on her own.
There is also a cost to it, a result that if I’m not careful, it could see me...
” He paused, eyeing her in a certain way, as if he didn’t wish to tell her.
He grunted. “Before her capture, I hunted when I was called upon. I aided those who needed help, specialising in rescue and retrieval. That is where my efforts were better utilised – preserving the lives of my kind rather than ending yours.”
Carwyn reached up to her ear nervously, pulling on the lobe as she averted her gaze. “With such a title, I’d have thought you’d be more frightening,” she said with a laugh, trying to defuse the situation.
“Little female, you have no idea how ruthless I can be. How cruelly I can haunt you.” A shiver ran down her spine, and her gaze darted to him anxiously, only to find he had a soft smile. “All my victims scream before I even get my claws in them.”
Her skin prickled with goosebumps at his expression, so guileless and light, so tender. But it felt sinister when accompanied by such words, like someone smiling coyly before they cut someone from navel to throat with a hidden dagger.
A nightmare wasn’t loud. It was quiet and slow. It creeped in, clutching at a person’s heart until the organ threatened to sprint out of their chest to escape.
But what did one do if that nightmare stood before them in living form, refusing to relent as he warped reality with an illusion? How could one flee when their eyes were already open and wide awake?
She shuddered at the thought.
I hope I never see it.