Chapter Seven #2
“When both courts are called to assembly, the dream and nightmare flow halts.” He pauses and shifts around, as if unsure about continuing, or worried someone can hear him.
“All humans alive in this time have grown used to our magic and influence, your minds unable to create either escape without our magic now. That’s why you experienced a void. ”
I blink rapidly, trying my best to absorb that information quickly. “So without the Nithrin and Dromin, they stop altogether. Dreams. Nightmares. All of it.”
The thought is unnerving. We were led to believe that our thoughts were our own and they were merely visitors, feeding off of the energy of our dreams and ensuring they stayed pleasant.
“It wasn’t always that way,” he admits with an edge of hesitation before taking a step toward me. “I don’t want you to fear me now.”
The tender statement lands heavily in my bones.
Suddenly his form is gone and a prickle at my neck is the only alert I get before sparks light up along my neck. His breath fans across my skin, just barely.
“You’re right. I am breaking laws to be here,” he admits, a thread of intrigue clear in his rumbling voice. “Tell me you want me to stop and I will, but I’ve found myself drawn to your soul and I intend to figure out why that is. I didn’t mean for this to matter, but it does.”
My mouth is suddenly parched and the part of my brain that is supposed to supply words ceases to work.
I lean back, desperately wanting to feel a part of him that reminds me he’s real and not a figment of my imagination. I half expect to fall back into a swirl of shadows or for him to move, but a solid chest greets me.
The warmth from his body flows into me, making my breath hitch at the nearness.
“I’m leaving tomorrow,” I say in a rush, unsure why I offer that piece of myself now. “North. To the High Priestess.”
My tongue darts out to wet my suddenly dry lips as a breath passes, waiting for his answer.
A tremor runs through his body as I feel it tighten.
“To be … offered in the selection?” he asks slowly, like he’s being deliberate with his choice of words.
I force my answer out, barely managing to accept it. “Yes.”
His head tilts slightly as he suddenly whirls to my front again, the shadows still dutiful in their job of concealment.
My lips part as a sigh puffs across them with the disappointment I feel in his withdrawal and the sudden tension I feel emanating between us with my admission.
Maybe he’s worried about being caught visiting me anymore if I’m going to be considered by the High Priestess to become the Queen. It would be a fair concern, but the thought of his presence halting stings more than I’d like to admit.
Or could it be that he thinks I’m already claimed by the King just by being in the selection?
“I know what you’re thinking,” I say quickly, trying to fill the silence that’s suddenly too heavy. “That you won’t be able to visit anymore and maybe you’ll be punished if they find out you’ve broken the laws.”
“I wasn’t thinking of punishment,” he says, so quietly I almost miss it. “I’ve covered my tracks well.”
I blink, taken aback by that truth. My heartbeat quickens as I whisper back, “Then what is bothering you suddenly?”
Yet he doesn’t answer, just continues to stand there, half consumed by mist and shadow. The change in his demeanor and tone was so harsh that I’m struggling to catch up to it, when my traitorous body is still thinking of how nice his quiet strength felt pressed against my back.
Why did I have to ruin the moment by admitting where I’m heading tomorrow?
I don’t know why it matters so much to him, but even without words, it’s clear that a wall has been thrown up between us.
My chest tightens with an ache I can’t place, unsure whether it’s hurt or confusion. “I don’t even know your name,” I admit. “I hope that this isn’t goodbye. I hope I’ll see you again.”
I catch the briefest hint of motion, his hand lifting and reaching. Just as the dream begins to dissolve, I feel it, a whisper of touch, a featherlight brush of his fingertips along my jaw.
It sears into me, a deep warmth and ache simmering beneath my skin.
“You will see me again,” he says gently. “I’m sure of it.”
There’s a fragility beneath the certainty in those words, like a promise wrapped in sorrow that he’s not happy to make.
The space around us begins to fade. The cool floor beneath my feet dissolves into mist and his presence starts to unravel from the edges inward, slipping away into the shadows.
His voice echoes through my waking consciousness, low and steady.
“When you’re tested, think of me. Only me.”
His words are a quiet plea, inspiring panic to unfurl within my chest.
What does that even mean? What does he know?
I can’t shake the sense of absence—like something important just slipped through my fingers before I had a chance to understand it.
“No, wait!” I call out, but it’s already too late.
My breath catches in my throat as I sit upright in my bed, pulse racing so hard it feels like it might break through my ribs. The room is dim, shadows stretched thin across the walls.
My fingers drift up, finding the end of my braid, clutching it tight in my fist. I curl up, drawing my knees to my chest beneath the worn covers, holding on to this last moment of my life as I know it, before the weight of the world crashes in again.
Today, everything changes.
Today, I leave everything I’ve ever known behind.
The sun will rise, and I will follow it, uncertain where I’ll rest my head when it sets again.