Chapter 18 Chelsea
Chelsea
“Um… we’re going to skip the kissing part.”
The kiss is mine to give, and I’m not handing it over so easily.
My grandmother nods, understanding I might not want to kiss some guy I met a few days ago—much less do anything else with him.
One side of Eryx’s mouth curls as if he’s amused that I’m skipping the kiss, like he knows something I don’t.
As if there could be anything more surprising than waking up to discover this man has announced his plan to marry me.
“I present the King and Queen of Nightmares,” Nana says.
As soon as she announces us, pressure builds in my chest and magic—pure, white-hot magic—pushes through me and fills the house.
This time, the magic has nothing to do with Eryx.
This is my family’s power strengthening, fighting back against the curse or whatever it is—the thing that forces all of us to marry.
And so I’m married.
Yay, me.
The next few minutes are a whirlwind. It feels like I’m a spectator outside of myself. My hands are numb. My body can’t accept the fact that I’ve just said, I do, to someone I barely know.
Three days ago my ball was canceled, and now I’m married to a stranger.
This feels so very, very wrong.
But when I look at Eryx, who’s standing across the room talking to my dad—his gaze darts to meet mine, and something inside my chest shifts, as if a part of me knows him.
Even though he’s still a stranger.
But what I’ve done, I’ve done for my family, for my sisters, so that our legacy can continue in my town of Castleview.
Even Ovie’s here, and she hugs me, whispering, “He’s very handsome.”
My gaze flicks to Eryx again. Have I just made the biggest mistake of my life?
One year. That’s all I have to do—give it one year and see how it works out, see if I can call the Nightmare District my home.
And what about the living nightmare I just married? How will I survive this?
“We’ll visit you,” Emory says as I join her and Dallas in a group. “As soon as you want us to.”
“You didn’t have to do this,” Dallas whispers. “We could have found another way.”
“No, we couldn’t have,” I murmur. “You saw what happened today. There wasn’t any time left. I’d put this off longer than I should have.”
Her gaze drops to her feet because she knows I’m right.
After a whirlwind of congratulations, Mama hands me a bag. “We packed some of your things.” She gives me a small bead-covered compact. “Take this with you.”
I open it and see my own reflection for just a moment. Then my face dissolves and my family’s friend Elmore appears. His face is only lightly lined with age, and his shock of white hair is coifed into a perfect pompadour.
“Elmore.” I trace my finger over his silhouette. “You’re coming with me?”
“Of course I am. Who’s going to keep your family updated on all the gossip—what the Nightmare King’s bedroom looks like, how he styles his hair?”
I chuckle. “Don’t worry. If you have to rescue me from his manor, I’m sure you can pull me through a mirror.”
Elmore tsks. “You know that’s never been done.”
“There’s a first time for everything.” I close the compact, pressing it to my heart. “Thanks, Mama.”
She hugs me tightly. “I’m sorry this happened so suddenly. I wish you’d had more time.”
Me too, I almost say. But instead I just hug her again, wrestling down the tears that threaten to spill.
No. I won’t cry. This might not be the way I saw myself getting married, but this is how it is, so I’ll accept my fate gracefully.
“It’s okay. I’ll be fine,” I tell her, breaking the hug and taking her hands.
She scans my face as if looking for the cracks in my statement. But I hold my head high.
“It’s time for us to leave,” I say, not knowing if this is really true or not. But I can’t stay here with my family. The longer I linger, the harder it will be to leave.
“What about Addison and Blair? You’re not going to wait for them to arrive?”
I shake my head. “I’ll see them later. Give them my love.”
Then I turn from my mother and make my way to Eryx. His eyes tighten as I approach, as if he expects me to want to renege on the whole thing.
“I’m ready to go home,” I tell him.
He studies me a moment, his expression unreadable, before nodding. “Can’t keep my new wife waiting.”
He thanks my father for everything, and then he takes my hand and escorts me out the door.
The Nightmare District is no different during the day than it was at night, and that’s because it’s always nighttime here.
Men walk down the streets dressed in deep black suits and women in bloodred dresses that are completely in fashion—long pleated skirts, button-down shirts tucked into them, with silver earrings dangling from their ears and big silver necklaces with moonstones fastened to them.
I hadn’t seen many people last night at the ball, but now I do. The women are beautiful, and the men are lithe and quick, smoke trailing them as if their shadows are fighting to keep up.
The whole district smells like rain on stone—that sharp, earthy scent that clings in the air after a storm.
And they greet Eryx—all of them, looking into his eyes and nodding like Eryx is one of them and not their king, not the man who wields primal magic.
And it’s not fear—no one looks at Eryx as if they fear him. They look at him as if they respect him.
“Keep eye contact,” he murmurs as we walk.
“With whom?”
“With anyone and everyone. We respect eye contact here. This isn’t the place for softness or uncertainty.”
Shadows slip past us on their own. They move so quickly it’s hard to tell what they are—but when one slows, I’m able to make out four legs—a dog, maybe?
We reach the manor, and he opens the door for me. When I walk inside, the gray walls make me hold my breath. The manor was a sight to behold yesterday, but now, today, knowing that this is my new home, my throat shrinks.
There’s so much gray and silver.
Frankly the place could use some color.
Eryx steps inside and says to a man dressed in a silver-hued suit with black thread—it’s the man who let me out onto the balcony last night—“Stave, Chelsea Thornrose and I just got married. Let’s celebrate.
Have the kitchen make a ton of food.” He smiles at me.
“Would you prefer a quiet night in or do you want a party?”
“I thought you hated crowds.”
“It depends on who it is. I can endure a few people if they’re the right ones.”
I frown. Who is this man? Yesterday he hated crowds, and now he’s interested in having a party. Okay, deep breath. “Maybe we’ll save the party for another night. I should learn this house and meet the people who work here, don’t you think?”
“Whatever you want.” He claps his hands together. “Stave, on second thought cancel the party. However, we will need a bedroom for the new mistress. Please set her up”—Eryx glances at me and lifts his eyebrows—“across from me.”
A cold shudder makes my spine wobble. Across from Eryx? I’ll be sleeping across from him?
As if he senses my dread, he drops his mouth to my ear and whispers, “Don’t worry. The doors lock—from the outside.”
My eyes flare.
“I’m joking,” he adds with a wink.
Something takes hold of me—fear of being here, the strangeness of the moment—and a piece of me cracks open.
I laugh.
Eryx’s eyes twinkle.
“I’ll make sure the bedroom’s ready,” Stave says, and then adds, “Welcome.”
He bows so low I can tell that his blond hair is soft. “Thank you.”
“In the meantime”—Eryx gestures to the hall—“I’ll show you around.”
The manor—if you can call it that—is grand and sweeping, from the front entrance to the twin staircases that lead to the second floor.
It is all very, very cold looking, though warm inside.
Servants greet us, and Eryx leans over again, reminding me to keep eye contact.
And somehow, even though it’s all gray, the place is beautiful—elegant, masculine and reserved, like him.
“How did you become the Nightmare King?” I ask as he shows me all the rooms—the study, the kitchen—which is downstairs—the solarium, which has the first pop of color I’ve seen this whole time, the ballroom, and so many more.
He opens a door and gestures to an indoor pool. “The pool. Don’t worry, it’s heated.”
We walk inside and it’s divine—a long Olympic-sized pool with chairs and a glass roof. “You may come anytime.”
“Do you swim?”
He nods.
“Nightmare kings swim?”
His mouth twitches. “Nightmare kings do all kinds of things.”
“And do they tell their new wives how they became the king?”
His eyes narrow for a beat before they relax again. “I inherited the position from my father when he died.”
His voice is tight, like there’s something he’s holding back.
“It must be hard infecting people with nightmares all the time.”
He frowns. “Infecting people…is that what you think I do?”
“Isn’t it?”
He places a hand on his hip and drops his head. When he looks up, he’s laughing. “Most people think I’ll just kill for no reason. But is that what the people of Castleview believe? That I’ll curse them?”
I shift my weight from one foot to the other. “I mean, is that a trick question?”
He shakes his head. “Let me show you to your room.”
Eryx starts to head off, and I scurry to keep up with him. “Wait. Aren’t you going to tell me the truth?”
He stops and stares at me. Something fiery burns in his eyes. “Do you want the truth, little rose? Is that what you want?”
The way he says it, I feel his magic unfurling from him, caressing my body, wrapping around me in a way that feels claiming.
Danger, Chelsea!
I lift my chin. “If the truth is what I need, then yes, I want the truth. All of it.”
His jaw flexes and suddenly his magic vanishes. “I don’t make nightmares,” he whispers, his voice like velvet. “I take them, eat them and digest them. The worst thoughts and fears people have, those are the ones they never see, they never experience because I save them from those fears.”
The air between us is charged, and the only sound in the room is the rippling water of the pool.
“And what about my fears?” I ask. “Will you save me from those?”
He leans in and I hold my breath. “Maybe we’ll save each other.”
My breath catches. This wasn't part of the deal. We're supposed to be business partners. Separate bedrooms. One year.
But the way he's looking at me right now—like I'm not a means to an end. Like I'm wanted.
He shifts forward.
I don't pull away. Our lips are so close I can feel his warm breath against my mouth. Mint. Refreshing.
My magic stirs beneath my skin, reaching for his.
Kiss me, something inside me whispers. Kiss me and let's see what happens.
But then reality crashes back. This is the Nightmare King. A man I met three days ago. A man who could consume me whole if I let him.
I pull back. Just an inch. Just enough. His eyes flash—disappointment, maybe. Or relief. I can't tell.
Eryx rocks back and something shudders behind his eyes. He exhales a hard breath. “Now. Let me show you to your room.”
As we leave the pool room, I glance back at the water. One year, I remind myself. Just one year.
So why does that suddenly feel like not enough time at all?