Chapter 12 Chelsea
Chelsea
I’ve got to leave.
Now.
My rib cage tightens as I cross the ballroom floor. Not from fear. From want.
I wanted him to keep holding me. I wanted the dance to last forever. I wanted—
No. Stop. He’s dangerous. The Nightmare King. He’s using me for something.
But the way he looked at me when he said my name… I shake my head. This is just magic. Just attraction. Just chemistry.
Nothing more.
Witches and wizards stare at me. I feel their hot gazes and do my best to ignore them.
I rush past the onlookers and am almost to the front door when a voice grabs me. “Chelsea, what was that about?”
Dallas and Emory stand just outside the ballroom. Relief floods every cell of my body.
“Thank goodness,” I manage.
“You’re so red,” Dallas notes.
Emory takes my arm. “And hot. Your skin is on fire. Come on. Let’s get you outside.”
Yes. Outside. Home. Away from here and Eryx’s icy blue eyes that seem to look right into my soul.
“We need air,” Dallas says to a man in a black suit. His head is shaved on both sides and his ash-blond hair on top is swept off his face. At his wrists, silver cuff links wink in the light.
He nods and opens a door. A rush of cool air sweeps over me, and my knees quake as I step onto a balcony.
Darkness covers the district. It’s quiet outside, but the music from the ball drifts out onto the streets. Masses of purple magic swirl inside glass balls, lighting the quarter.
A fine mist hangs in the air, and it clings to my skin, cooling me.
“Better?” Emory asks, rubbing my back.
I nod. “Better.”
“What happened in there?” Dallas fingers her bangs, pushing them to one side. “First the king appears, and the next thing we know, you’re dancing with him. We want to know everything. Ovie said she found you in a room with him?”
“Let’s give her a minute.” Emory squeezes my shoulder. “There are a lot of emotions going on.”
Oh God. There are, and I can’t hide them. My thoughts are a tangled mess. I can’t believe I told Eryx about the curse—I mean, family condition. Why did I do such a stupid thing? I don’t even know him.
Because you felt safe, a little voice inside my head whispers.
Ridiculous. That man isn’t safe. He’s dangerous, complex. He’s the Nightmare King—a man who wreaks havoc in people’s minds for a living.
The last thing he is, is safe.
But I can’t deny there’s something incredibly alluring about him. It’s a thing I can’t explain or even properly analyze because it’s difficult to put into words.
Every interaction we’ve had is impossible to describe. It’s like…it’s like this stranger sees me. He pulls back the layers, exposing what’s underneath.
And it scares the hell out of me.
I hug my arms, and Dallas gestures to the streets. “It’s all right. Take a few deep breaths. We’ll go back inside in a moment.”
Inside? Do I want to go back there?
Emory gives me a feeble smile. “Don’t worry. You’re not getting off the hook. You’re going to tell us everything, and I mean everything.”
She says it lightly, as a joke, but when I try to smile, it comes out wobbly.
I’ll just take a moment, collect myself, and then I’ll head back inside. Whatever this chemistry is between me and Eryx, it’s a fluke. A big nothingburger.
I inhale a deep, cleansing breath, and that’s when I feel it.
A line of magic snakes around my wrist and crawls up my arm. I instantly recognize it—it’s the same cold magic I first felt when Eryx and I touched hands. The same cloud of power that halos him like a cloak.
The magic works its way up my arm to my shoulder. Tentative. Searching.
What is he doing?
It slides over my collarbone like a caress. My skin tingles as if it can only come alive because of him.
A knot fills my throat, and I swallow it down.
The magic continues its slow crawl, feeling me out as if it’s waiting for me to respond.
I should stop this. Pull away. Run.
But I’m being lulled. His magic feels like a question. Like he’s asking: Do you feel this, too?
And my magic is screaming, yes!
Oh God. This is more than just magic. This is connection…recognition. Like my power has been waiting for this its entire life.
No. That’s insane. I’ve only met him twice.
Just as I start to pull back, pressure builds inside me, like my body is a dam holding back an ocean of water. Golden light blazes under my skin, racing up to meet his darkness as if it’s been longing for him.
Just as his magic slides around my neck—
My power explodes.
“Chelsea?” Emory says, her eyes wide.
Dallas turns around and her jaw drops.
My magic wraps around Eryx’s darkness like it’s dancing, intertwining with it.
And it pours out of me. Golden globs of power drip from my fingers, forming balls with the darkness, and where it lands on the balcony—
Gold and black roses spring up from the stone, creating a blanket at my feet.
No.
No no no no no!
I stumble back, my heart hammering. The roses are everywhere—covering the balcony, climbing the walls, proof of what just happened.
And I can’t pretend I didn’t feel it.
Dallas reaches for me. “Chelsea?”
I flinch. I can’t let them touch me. I can’t risk my magic reaching for them, too.
This is darkness and light, two opposing forces, two opposing magics.
Two opposing people.
I shrink away from the roses, and instantly the magic stops. My power pulls into me, and the darkness vanishes.
Emory turns around and gasps. “Chelsea. Your magic—I can feel it. Oh my God. It’s him!”
“No.” I shake my head hard. “No, it’s—”
“Is he hurting you?” she demands.
“No, it’s…” What is it? Fine? Insane?
Dallas’s gaze scrapes over the stone floor, the walls. “The roses are everywhere. Holy shit, Chels.”
“I need to go home. Now.”
Emory looks at me as if she’s never seen me before. “But shouldn’t you tell Ov—”
“No. No one. I’m not telling anyone. I’m leaving. Tell them whatever you want. But not about this. Don’t mention this.”
Emory frowns. “Is this…because of him?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know. I have to go.”
Dallas takes my hand. “I’ll walk you home.”
“No, stay. You both stay.”
My sisters exchange a look. It’s Emory who replies. “Should you be alone?”
“Yes, I should be.” You don’t want his magic following you, too. “I’ll be fine.”
And with that I take a step back. Magic surges through my body. I think it’s enough that I won’t mess this up.
I steel myself and reach for my magic—expecting the usual chaos, the frazzled energy that never listens.
But it's calm. Focused. Like whatever just happened with Eryx's power straightened something inside me.
The next thing I know, I'm enveloped in a cloud of smoke, and when I blink, I'm back home, standing in my own room, staring at my bed.
Holy crap. I actually did it. My magic—my chaotic, unpredictable magic—just worked exactly how I wanted it to.
I’m suddenly exhausted—emotionally, drained from the magic, all of it.
My bed spreads out before me, and before I can catch myself, my knees fold and I collapse on top of the soft mattress.
I try to keep my eyes open, to process everything that happened tonight.
My hands still hum from Eryx’s touch.
But exhaustion drags me under, and my eyes snap shut.
When I wake up tomorrow, this will have been nothing more than a bad dream.
No, a nightmare.