Chapter 22 Chelsea
Chelsea
As soon as Stave announces dinner, I grab the ball and hold it out for the shadow dog to smell. It sits up, ready, and I toss it.
Straight out of the room.
The dog bounds after it, and I follow, my cheeks burning with humiliation.
What just happened?
I had the best orgasm of my life through magic.
Magic.
Did Eryx do that on purpose? Was it a continuation of what happened on the balcony?
My humiliation curdles into something else as I follow Stave through the halls.
Not anger. Not yet.
Confusion. Fear.
A thrill that’s impossible to name.
We just had magical orgasms from holding hands. What does that mean? What happens next time we touch? What happens if we—
No. Stop.
By the time we’re near the dining room, confusion has sharpened into fury.
He should have warned me about that. He knew our magic was reactive, and he let me touch him anyway.
I toss the ball for the shadow dog to fetch, and as it races to the other side of the dining room, I skid to a halt, my sneakers squeaking on the polished marble.
This isn’t the dining room at all.
It’s Eryx’s study. A small table has been set up. A vase of red roses sits in the middle, and covering the rest of the table are candles.
And in the corner are musicians playing romantic music.
What the hell is this?
I hear Eryx enter behind me. I whirl on him, fists clenched, jaw tight.
“Get them out,” I say, teeth clenched.
Eryx’s eyes brush over my face as if he’s trying to decide if I’m about to blow.
Oh, I’m about to blow, all right.
“Guys.” He slides a hand across his throat, giving them the “cut” signal. “Thank you. Stave will pay you.”
The musicians get up. The last one stares at the table longingly, as if he’d really wanted to play romantic music during our supposedly romantic dinner.
As soon as they’re gone, Eryx keeps his gaze trained on me as he closes the door softly behind them.
“Chelsea, look—”
“How dare you marry me and then use my magic to get you off!”
His brow furrows in confusion. “I wasn’t—”
“What was that back there?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“I don’t believe you. Your magic rubbed all over me at the ball and now this.” I smooth the crease that’s formed between my eyebrows with a finger. “I don’t even know you, and if you think making me come with your magic is how you’ll get me in bed, you’re wrong.”
He folds his arms. “And what if I were going to say the same to you?”
I blink. “What?”
“You seem to think I have control over what our magic does together.”
“Don’t you?”
“No.”
“But the balcony—”
“That wasn’t me. That was…” He sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, and then Eryx Nightshade, Nightmare King, sits in a wingback chair.
He drops his elbows to his knees, face tilted toward the floor, and says in a dark, sad voice, “I carry a magical essence with me all the time. Its name is Nightmare, and it is what came to you on that balcony. Not me. Do I wish it had been me? Yes.”
He looks up and his gaze stabs me in the heart. There’s anguish and loneliness in his eyes. So much loneliness, like he carries an invisible burden no one else could possibly understand.
Just like Nancy said. A voice in his head. All the time. Since he was young enough to have it nearly drive him mad.
No wonder he looks at me like I might run. Everyone probably has.
“I was trying to figure out a way to tell you. I didn’t expect it to be the day we got married, but here it is.”
He sits up and slumps back on the chair, waiting for me to say something.
I sit in the chair opposite him. “How long have you had this being?”
“When my father died, it came into me. It’s the power behind my magic, and it’s what we inherit, each and every Nightmare King. I can’t live without it, but it can live without me.” He looks away. “I tried to stop it back there when we…but it said it couldn’t. That your magic was pulling it.”
“My magic?”
“That’s right.”
His words settle into me. “My magic was pulling yours? But how is that possible. It’s not sentient.”
“Maybe it’s because we’re married.” He plows his fingers through his dark, silky hair. “Maybe it’s because we’re opposites—light and dark. Or maybe”—he meets my eyes—“there’s something between us that we don’t understand.”
I swallow down a lump in my throat.
If the truth be told, when Eryx and I were in the thick of it a few minutes ago, it felt amazing. Thrilling. And a little risky.
Maybe our magic is what has pulled me toward Eryx ever since we met.
Or maybe it’s just Eryx.
I release a slow breath. “Is Nightmare…is it why you asked me to marry you?”
“Yes.”
“Because?”
“Because”—his gaze slashes left—“it’s obsessed with you.”
And that hits me even harder. My rib cage pulses. I place a hand on my stomach to ground myself. “Why?”
His lips curl into a lopsided smile. “I think it’s because you pair sparkly sneakers with ballgowns.”
Our gazes latch and we both laugh, though mine is more of a huff. His eyes crinkle, and he’s just so stinking handsome. And charming. And dangerous.
But maybe he’s not dangerous to me.
“And what about you? Did you want to marry me, or was it just Nightmare?”
“I want…you to look at me like I’m not a monster. Like I’m just Eryx.”
“I don’t think—”
“Don’t you? Didn’t you when you first arrived at my manor?
Think that all I wanted was to destroy people from the inside out?
Turn their own thoughts against them? I know what the outside world thinks of me, and for a long time I tried to show I wasn’t like that, but after a while you get tired trying to prove yourself. ”
I sit back in the chair. He’s right. Everyone in Castleview thinks this district and its leader are terrifying.
“I’m sorry you thought that.”
“Don’t be sorry, Chelsea. Be different.”
The words settle into my chest. Heavy. Important. He's not asking me to love him. He's asking me to see him.
And maybe I already do.
My throat shrinks and all I can do is nod slightly.
Eryx exhales slowly, like my nod is enough. Like it’s everything.
As I watch him, I realize this is the most relaxed I’ve seen him. Maybe it’s the most relaxed he’s allowed himself to be.
“For the time being, I don’t think we should allow our magics to mingle.”
“Agreed. For what it’s worth, Chelsea—I swear to you, I didn’t know that would happen.”
He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and he’s close enough that I can see silver flecks in his ice-blue eyes. He’s close enough that if I wanted to, I could reach out and brush my finger over his cheek.
But I don’t. Because if I touch him, I’m not sure what will happen, and I need to think clearly.
And most importantly, I believe Eryx. But that magic was so intense if it happens next time, I don’t think it will only be my magic responding to him.
I’ll want more.
I’ll want all of him—and that’s a scary thought.
He nods toward the food. “Dinner’s getting cold, and I think your puppy wants to play.”
I glance over and see the shadow dog lying on the floor, the ball between its dark paws and its tail wagging happily.
A small smile flits across my face. “Yes, we should eat.”
When I glance back at Eryx, he’s watching me carefully, as if he’s trying to figure me out.
That makes two of us.
Because the man sitting across from me isn't the Nightmare King everyone fears.
He's not the monster from the rumors.
He's lonely. He's carrying something that almost broke him. And he's asking me to see past it.
Can I?
Maybe—just maybe—I’ll try.