A Tale of Trial & Torment (Shadow and Starlight #3)

Chapter 1

One

Shaye

The throne room is dark and so cold I can see my breath dance in front of me.

Fear tickles my spine as I examine the glass fragments from the shattered windows littering the blood splattered floor and grimace at the bodies lying at odd, broken angles.

Their eyes are still open, but their souls were snuffed out long before I snapped their necks.

A menacing cackle echoes, wrapping its wicked arms around me.

My heart lurches as I whip around to catch sight of who the laugh belongs to but find I am alone.

I swivel back and jolt at the sight of a battle-worn Bastian lounging on the Ice Throne.

Armas Basilius' severed head is resting in his lap – a silent scream frozen on his face for the rest of time.

Blood trickles down to the floor, puddling around his scuffed, leather boots.

Bastian's head hangs against his chest. I'm not sure if he's breathing.

I take a tentative step toward him, but when his eyes flick up to find mine, fear grips my heart and squeezes, forcing me to retreat.

He smiles at me, but evil brews in his face and the undeniable sense of danger chills my blood.

"You think you can escape me, Ilaria?" He grabs a fistful of Armas' hair and tosses his head at my feet.

It rolls between us, but I don't dare tear my gaze from the man I once loved.

"You are mine. You will never be rid of me.

" His nose crinkles and the angry frown lines marring his forehead deepen.

"You will come to realize it sooner than you think. "

"You are not the Bastian I know. Not the boy I once loved."

He chuckles darkly before he shoots across the room with unnatural speed. His fingers wrap around my throat, and he lifts me off the floor.

I struggle to breathe. I thrash against him, failing to escape his tightening grasp. In a last-ditch effort, I reach for my magic, but to my horror it's not there.

"Oh, Ilaria," he coos, fingering through my dark brown locks with his spare hand. "Sweet, naive, Ilaria. You are no match for a monster like me."

With the absence of my magic and my white hair now brown, I know he's right. I am no match for him.

Agonizing screams erupt all around me and suddenly the dark, cold throne room is lit with warm light from a roaring fireplace, heating my goosebump riddled flesh.

I scan the space to see who the pained cries belong to, only to find my friends shackled against the wall.

Soul Eaters carve into their skin with blades and blood accumulates beneath their bare feet.

Fingers and toes are scattered underneath them, and their eyes and tongues are missing.

"What have you done?" I yell as hot tears streak down my cheeks, combating the dizziness threatening to overtake me. He doesn't loosen his hold around my neck but turns me just enough so I can see the torment Atlas, Finn, Nyx and Eris are enduring.

"The question you should be asking is what have you done?" Bastian's voice scrapes the inside of my mind, a torture of its own. "Had you come with me when I asked, I wouldn't have had to do this. It's because of you that your friends are suffering."

"No!" I bellow. "Please stop. I'll do whatever you want, just stop hurting them."

"There is no hope for them, Ilaria. Death is the only mercy I can offer."

"You bastard!" I kick at him but come up short. "I hate you! I hate you!"

"Shaye," Atlas groans. There's so much blood coating his skin, I can barely look at him but force myself to.

"Atlas!" I cry.

"Shaye!" He whisper-screams as Vesper carves into his chest with her dagger. "Shaye!"

"Atlas!"

"Shaye, wake up! Shaye, wake up!"

My eyes fly open, and I lurch into a seated position in my bed, gasping for air.

The second I feel a hand caress my arm, I reach for my magic and put a shield around myself.

Once my vision isn't blurred, I realize the hand grabbing me doesn't belong to Bastian, it belongs to Atlas, and he's not bleeding or missing fingers or screaming my name in agony.

He's whole with disheveled hair and sits shirtless on his side of our shared bed.

Instantly, I lower my shield and throw myself into his arms. Without saying a word, he holds me against his chest, and I listen to the rhythmic beating of his heart.

He's alive. He's alive. He's alive.

I repeat it in my head over and over and over again until I believe it as truth.

Gently, he rakes his fingers through my hair, kissing the top of my head to soothe me.

"What happened?" he asks.

"It was horrible." My lip trembles and I flinch at the horrendous sound of my raspy voice.

Pushing away from him, I grab the glass of water on my nightstand and guzzle the remnants until my thirst is quenched.

I settle back against my pillows. It's still dark outside.

The lights of the city of Elowen twinkle outside my bedroom window.

It's been two weeks since Bastian and his Soul Eaters attacked and yesterday Thrane celebrated his coronation as the new Frost King.

I'm safe here. Atlas is safe here. Even though part of me wants to dart around Stelara and bang on each of my friends' bedroom doors to make sure they're all right, I refrain, returning my focus to a sleepy-eyed Atlas.

"I'm sorry I woke you up again." I tuck my legs against my chest and curl my arms around my knees.

Atlas rubs the heels of his palms against his bloodshot eyes.

I know he's exhausted, this is the third time this week I've disturbed his sleep because of my nightmares, but he's not once complained.

When I suggested he go back to his own room so he could get a decent night's rest, he wouldn't hear of it.

Part of me thinks he insists on sleeping by my side because he won't be able to rest if he's not the one here to protect me.

Either way, I'm grateful he's with me, especially now.

"Was it the same dream or was it different this time?" he asks, clearing his throat.

It's been the same horrific nightmare for the last two weeks.

I refused to share the details with Atlas the first few times, but I finally broke and told him.

He sat quietly, allowing me to cry and fumble with my words, but once I'd finished, he slid his hand against my cheek and told me everything was going to be all right.

I believed him then. I'm not so sure now.

In Midori, if the same nightmare visits while you sleep, it's a bad omen.

It might not show you the exact details of the future, but it serves as a warning.

A warning I'm not sure I can continue to ignore.

My friends and family are in danger and it's all because of me.

I would never forgive myself if something happened to any of them on my account.

Sometimes I wonder if I should mount Seraxes and fly off on my own, shielding my loved ones from the danger I bring, but that would do me little good.

I am still learning my magic and have only recently become comfortable as a dragon rider.

Alone I couldn't defeat Drogon. Hell, I don't think I'd stand a chance on the battlefield against Bastian and Vesper.

I'm new to the world of magic and monsters and I'm frightened when the time comes and I'm needed most, I won't be strong enough.

I won't be fast enough. I won't be brave enough.

The crushing weight of the burdens I shoulder drape around me like a heavy cloak.

"Shaye?"

I break my silent stare off with the wall and meet Atlas' warm gaze.

He's waiting for an answer. An answer I'm hesitant to give.

Although he's not expressed any concern of my nightmare becoming reality, I've caught him in the library on more than one occasion sifting through books on visions, dreams, and nightmares.

He's not admitted it, nor would I ever expect him to, but he's afraid.

Maybe more so than I am. And he should be.

I swallow hard. "It's the same nightmare. Except this time, I could feel Bastian's hand around my neck. As if he was here in the room with us."

A flash of anger darts across Atlas' vision, but it's quickly replaced with concern.

He reaches for my neck and slowly drags the pads of his fingers down my throat.

His hands are warm, his touch soothing. My erratically beating heart begins to steady and I exhale a breath, purging the fear the nightmare inflicted.

"You're safe." He reassures me, although it's his safety I'm worried about. "Come here." He motions for me to lay against his chest and I do. His fingers brush through my hair and within minutes, a peace washes over me. "Should I tell you a story?"

He's attempting to distract me. I don't fight him.

"Please." I nod, dragging my cheek against his bare chest.

"All right," he clears his throat. "Once upon a time there was a boy who momentarily borrowed a beautiful, headstrong girl. But instead of the girl enjoying the adventure, she burned and sank the boy's ship – "

I swat at his chest and he pins me against his body. "My intent was not to burn your boat, Atlas – "

"The stubborn princess swam in shark infested waters to escape the boy. To his credit, the boy didn't lose his shit, despite having to traipse through the harsh jungle to find her when she ran off."

"Atlas," I giggle but he presses on.

"Though the boy tried desperately not to, he couldn't help but fall in love with the girl." His voice softens and I glance up at him. He kisses my forehead.

"And this boy," I intertwine my fingers with his. "Did he ever regret falling in love with the girl?"

He shakes his head, stroking his hand down my face. "The boy quickly realized he would willingly burn the world to ash for the girl if she only asked."

I lean up and press my lips against his. This man. Oh, how I love and adore this man. He tugs me upward, gently ushering me to straddle his lap. I wrap my legs around him and slide my tongue in his mouth. Open mouth kisses find their way down my neck to my shoulder –

I hiss and Atlas retreats. "I'm sorry, I forgot," he apologizes.

"It's all right," I reassure him. "I forgot about them, too."

One of Thrane's first acts as king was to see I received my rider tattoos.

Atlas examines the ink on both of my shoulders.

They're healing nicely, but damn, they're still sensitive to touch.

The shoulder ones didn't hurt nearly as much as the one down my spine.

That one wasn't required, but it's one I insisted on having.

The shoulders are to establish my name as a Basilius – as a dragon rider.

The spine one incorporates the Basilius star, the Sol sun, and the Tronovian moon. It's my story.

"Are you ok?"

I nod. "I'm fine. I promise." I scoot closer to him, though we're already as close as two people can be with clothes still on. "Where were we?"

He smiles, permitting his hands to roam across my thighs until he finds purchase on my ass. "I thought the nose ring you got in Bava was sexy, but these" – his eyes dart from one shoulder to the next – "these do something for me."

My heart pounds against my ribcage, my lower belly swirls in excitement. "And here I thought the spine tattoo would be your favorite."

Atlas' calloused hands slide up the silk waistline of my nightdress and over the swell of my breasts. Yearning for him would be an understatement. My nipples harden when his thumbs drag across the fabric. "You should take off your slip and let me see your tattoo again," he whispers.

"You saw it last night," I swallow hard, my attempts at teasing him falling short.

He leans closer, nipping at the bottom of my ear. "Maybe I've forgotten what it looks like."

My hips undulate against him, eliciting a moan from him. "What I think you've forgotten, my love, is the meeting we are supposed to attend in …" My voice trails off when he bites down on the sensitive flesh between my neck and shoulder. "That's not fair."

"Tell me to stop."

All willpower fails me and I give into his tempting smile. He tugs my nightgown over my head and when his eyes examine every naked inch, his length hardens beneath me.

"We're going to be late." I tangle my fingers in his hair, grinding against him.

"No, we won't."