Chapter 32
Chelsea
“This is my dream room,” Eryx says.
I’ve only been in this room once before, the day Echo appeared, and even then I didn’t take a good look.
Now I do.
The walls are dark gray with silver mortar, but this room feels different from the rest of the house—darker, more intimate.
A velvet chaise lounge sits in the center of the room, and beneath it—painted directly on the floor in silver— is a map of the stars.
The ceiling above is all glass, open to the sky. Rain pelts the windows, soft and rhythmic, adding to the ambiance. This room feels personal. Sacred.
Eryx inviting me into it is a big, big deal.
A knot forms in my throat as he turns and looks at me. He hasn’t put a shirt on since he’s woken up, and even though his chest is scarred, I can still see the cut of his muscles.
My fingers itch to trace the lines and planes of his chest, to relish the warmth of his skin under my palms.
I remember how he felt when he kissed me—his chest pressed to mine, blood-slicked and desperate. How he tasted. How he demanded I call him beautiful.
I want that again. All of it.
“Chelsea? Are you listening?”
“Yes,” I lie.
His mouth twitches.
“Okay, you caught me. I was distracted.”
“By what?”
“You,” I whisper.
He goes very still.
For a moment we just look at each other, him shirtless and wounded, me in his dream room about to do something that will bond us permanently.
I should be nervous, my stomach flipping.
But I’m not.
This feels like an inevitable next step for us—skip kissing, skip lovemaking and go straight to magical bonding.
Like it’s been from the beginning.
“If it makes you feel better, it’s hard for me to concentrate when you’re in the room, too,” he says.
“Which room?”
“Any room. All of them. But…” He slowly crosses to me, his face barely hiding the pain he’s in.
But I don’t stop him. Eryx is strong, and stopping him would only insult him.
He pauses when he’s directly in front of me, and he gently tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear.
“But if I can control myself, then you can, too.”
I meet his eyes. “Challenge accepted.”
His smile is slow, devastating. “Good.”
I feel the heat radiating off his skin, see his pulse flutter at the base of his throat and count his breaths. Everything about this man breathes me to life.
I take a step back to help myself focus. “How do we do this?”
“We’ll join hands, and Nightmare will…transfer.”
“Will it be permanent?”
“That depends on you.” Worry flashes in his eyes, but it’s brief, gone as quickly as it appears. “It’s promised to be on its best behavior.”
“What’s its worst behavior?”
Eryx grimaces. “I’m not answering that. But if it does anything inappropriate, tell me. We’ve had a long discussion about it, and it’s not supposed to touch any part of you that you don’t allow.”
I nod. “Understood…and what will it feel like?”
“It’s hard to describe—like yourself, but not yourself. Clear as mud, right?”
I smirk. “Clear as mud.”
“The only way to learn is to experience.”
For a split second a cold thought skims down my spine—what if this changes me in ways I can’t undo?
But as quickly as it appears, it vanishes, burned away by certainty.
I take a breath. “Then let’s get to it.”
“Come stand by the chaise.”
“Why?”
“So if you fall, it can catch you.”
I do as he says and take his hand. Warmth floods my palm, immediate and startling. Fireworks explode in my stomach and his scent surrounds me, dark and intoxicating.
My hand hums and I feel Eryx’s magic, that cold snake coiling around me. I don’t fear his magic anymore.
And when power erupts from our hands, a black carpet unfurls and atop it, bright golden stars—like his room, like the galaxy unravels before us.
My stomach swoops.
Eryx clocks it instantly. His gaze washes over the stars and his jaw tightens before softening, and when he looks at me, lips parted, his eyes hold more warmth than I’ve seen before. But there’s something else in his gaze—wonder.
Like he’s seeing me for the first time.
"That's not roses," I breathe.
"No." His voice is rough. "It's not."
Roses were beautiful. But this—this is us. Our magic doesn't just make flowers anymore. It makes universes.
The implications settle over me like a weight. What else can we create together?
“Close your eyes,” he whispers.
My stomach quakes with worry, excitement, possibility.
But when he cocks his head impatiently, I ask, “When Nightmare comes into me, will I get a scar like yours?”
There’s a pause. “No. I got mine because…things were a little more dramatic than this. Would you like to back out?”
“No,” I say firmly.
I nod and close my eyes. As soon as they’re shut, I feel it—pressure pushing on my head, my body.
“Relax,” he tells me.
I exhale and my shoulders slump, releasing tension I didn’t know I was carrying.
As soon as I let go, I hear—
You feel so different from Eryx.
Nightmare?
Were you expecting someone else?
A laugh bubbles in my throat. You’re funny. Eryx never said you were funny.
That’s because he doesn’t appreciate my sense of humor.
Oh, I doubt that. Maybe there’s a reason why he doesn’t think you’re funny.
You think I might be lewd. You’re right.
Nightmare isn't just a voice in my head. It's a presence—vast and cold, like standing in a shadow that goes on forever. I can feel it everywhere, awareness layered over my own, ancient and watchful.
Well, at least you’re honest about being lewd.
I’m always honest, it tells me. Now…we’re going to have some fun. Eryx sees what we do as a chore. But I have a feeling you’ll see this differently.
My muscles lock. Will it hurt?
No.
I hesitate. Did it hurt Eryx?
You’ve seen the mark on his chest.
Yes, I reply slowly.
I don’t bring pain when I’m chosen. Before I can ask what that means, Nightmare continues. You’re only touching a sliver of me. This is borrowed power. It will answer you, but it’s not yours. Not yet.
I don’t speak and Nightmare stills. You have a question.
Eryx said you were obsessed with me, which I’m sure is an overstatement.
It pauses, waiting in the corners of my mind.
Why me? I ask, and it feels like I’ve just thrown a boulder off my shoulders.
Why you? Has a simpler question ever been asked? Why not you?
I feel the urge to roll my eyes because asking instead of answering feels like Nightmare is trying to bide time. Is it because of the roses?
That’s part of it, yes, it replies, sounding like a snake as it holds the s.
Your magic calls to me. But it was never just the magic.
As soon as we saw you, we knew there was something different about you.
Partly because you stood up to the Nightmare King.
You weren’t afraid. But also, you let us taste your power, and your power is like the sun.
Um…what do you mean?
It means we live in darkness. We see the depths of fear and horror inside people. But what’s inside you isn’t like that. It’s brighter, and it pulls us closer.
When you say us, you mean you and Eryx.
Who else?
No one. Just making sure.
Huh. So it was pulled by my magic? Lulled by my weak power?
Your power isn’t weak. Now that your curse is fixed.
You’re strong, Chelsea Nightshade. Eryx knows it.
I know it. That’s why we’re letting you do this, because you complement us.
We have lived in darkness for so long, wanting revenge.
But then you showed us what light is. And the best part is that you weren’t even trying.
So that is why we’re drawn to you, because there is a hole in us, and we see you as capable of filling it.
Eryx doesn’t need to be filled. He needs to be met.
Nightmare laughs. I like the way you see us. But I’ve known him a long time, and we have been missing something.
Missing something doesn’t equal being broken.
No, Nightmare says calmly. It just means there was space for you.
There’s a hole in Eryx? Like, a hole in his heart? That makes my own heart ache for him. There’s no doubt I’ve been drawn to him as well.
Because he’s the darkness to your light, Nightmare murmurs.
Do you listen to Eryx’s inner thoughts, too?
I can’t help it.
And it probably can’t. But I go back and think about what Nightmare said. He’s the darkness to my light.
Nestled inside him is this dark, cold magic, and he’s been waiting for something different, someone different to complement him.
Maybe that’s why I’ve been drawn to him since the first moment we met—because he complements something missing inside of me, too.
Something I always longed for but was too afraid to ask—the part that thought marriage meant being taken advantage of. That it would be joyless.
That wasn’t a future I ever planned for myself.
And even though I barely know Eryx, he saved me from a monster.
When he didn’t have to.
Are you ready to learn how to tame nightmares? it asks.
Who knows if I’ll ever be ready, but I can try.
You’re more than ready. Teaching you will be easier than teaching Eryx.
Why’s that?
Because your magic already likes mine.
With only those few words, I’m taken back to the last time our magic entwined. Did you do that with my magic? You know, when we, um…
It was me and your magic together. But I promised Eryx I wouldn’t do anything like that again…not unless you want me to, of course.
There was something intensely arousing about our magic combining, but letting Nightmare have its way while its inside me almost makes me feel like—
You’d be cheating on Eryx?
Yes, um. Thank you.
Then we will move on, and I will wait for you, Chelsea Nightshade, to come to me.
Because it knows I will.
Something settles into my bones, heavy and certain. This can't be undone. Once I use Nightmare—even briefly—we'll be connected.
Not just married. Not just magically compatible.
Bonded.
I'll have held his power. We'll know each other in ways we can't take back. There's no going back to the way things were. To being strangers who made roses. To separate bedrooms and careful distance.
This changes everything.
My stomach dips. But I know without question that if the roles were reversed, Eryx wouldn’t hesitate to do this for me.
I push back my shoulders and lift my chin. I’m ready. Teach me how to use you. How to be a true Nightmare Queen.
It almost sounds like Nightmare is smiling when it replies, It would be my pleasure.
And just like that, I cross a line I can never uncross. I'm not just Chelsea Nightshade, wife of the Nightmare King.
I'm about to become part of the nightmare itself.