Chapter 51 Eryx
Eryx
Nightmare hasn’t spoken in three days.
Not a whisper. Not a sneer. Not even a low, irritated hum between my ribs. The silence presses against my skull like deep water, heavy and unfamiliar.
I used to resent the noise. Now I’d give anything to hear it again.
I miss her, too.
It doesn’t answer, and I don’t expect it to. I stare at the ceiling in my dream room. The one place that always made Nightmare stir has done nothing.
Then finally—
You made her go away.
I sigh and sit up. Drop my head into my hands. She went away on her own.
She begged you.
You were the one who told me I had to do it! I shout so loudly inside my own skull it rattles.
I curl my hands into my hair and pull, hard. I’m sorry.
It’s silent again.
I want her back as much as you do. But I don’t think she’ll come.
To be honest, I expect divorce papers to arrive any day. I broke. Now I get to live in the silence.
Chelsea infiltrates my thoughts. I can’t stop thinking about her. Can’t eat. Can barely sleep.
The shadows flicker like they’re tired, too. Or they sense I’m burned out and need rest.
Ever since she left, I’ve been devouring nightmares in overtime. To keep myself busy. To keep myself sane.
I haven’t left this room in hours. Maybe days. Time folds in on itself when there’s no voice in my head to mark it.
The glass ceiling above me is streaked with water. Rain trickles down in thin, trembling lines. I used to like watching storms here. Nightmare did, too. It would press in, and I’d feel its approval as a hum in my ribs.
Now there’s nothing.
I drag my magic up to feel something.
It flares—then flickers. The shadows on the edges twitch without direction, like smoke with no wind to guide it.
Pathetic.
Say something, I beg quietly. Anything. I have to know what I did was the right choice, because everything feels wrong.
You drove her away, Nightmare says finally, its voice faint and distant.
I saved her.
You chose for her.
For her own good.
Or was it for your good, Eryx?
My throat tightens. I don’t argue. Was it selfish of me to save her life? Would she have eventually come to the conclusion I came to, but naturally, if I’d allowed everything to play out?
Did I push too much too fast?
Did I take away her right and push on her what I wanted?
I rake my fingers down my face. I always let her choose.
Except then, Nightmare quietly reminds me.
I didn’t want her to die.
And now she won’t come back, it murmurs.
That lands. Not as an accusation.
As a fact.
I close my eyes. If she doesn’t come back, I say slowly, then what’s the point?
Nightmare doesn’t rush to answer, because I think we both know the truth.
The magic in the room dims. Something inside me lets go. Maybe this is what peace looks like.
I sit on the chaise long enough for my thoughts to go quiet.
With Chelsea gone, at least she’s safe. Separate from me, no one will hurt her.
That sinks in deep, and I realize with clarity that I don’t care what happens to me anymore. I'm too tired to fight. And maybe I deserve what’s coming for me.
That’s when the door to the dream room creaks open.
“I said I didn’t want to be disturbed.”
“Oh, am I disturbing you?”
That voice—so many questions are inside my head. The most logical is: how did you get past my security?
But I don’t care.
I don’t turn.
“I was wondering how long it would take you to break,” Helena says.
I let my gaze drift toward her. “You want the darkness?” My voice sounds distant even to me. “It’s yours.”
She smiles slowly, like a jackal. “I will gladly take what’s inside you.”
The shadows at the edges of the room twitch.
Eryx, Nightmare says.
I let the voice fade.
In the crystal mirror across from me, something flashes—thin as a blade. Then it’s gone.
For a split second I think I see her—golden hair, blue eyes, claws of shadow.
Chelsea.
But that's impossible. She's in Castleview. Safe. Far from here.
Helena’s smile widens. “This is going to hurt.”
She lifts her hands.
Pain detonates beneath my ribs—hot, searing.
This is how it felt when my father died. When Nightmare bonded to me. Now it's being ripped out. Not cleanly. Not like when I unbound Chelsea.
This is violent. Wrong. Helena's magic hooks into Nightmare like claws, yanking, tearing. I feel it separating from me—the darkness that's lived in my chest for ten years, screaming as it's pulled away.
My bones crack. My ribs split. Nightmare fights. Tries to hold on. But I'm not fighting back. And without me fighting too, we're losing.
Eryx—
Not anger. Not fury.
Just fear.
Nightmare isn't angry I won't fight. It's terrified. Because it knows—without Chelsea, I've given up.
Helena knows it too.
The shadows explode outward, and the darkness leaves me.
The last thing I feel before the darkness takes me: Nightmare screaming my name.
And something warm—impossibly warm—cutting through the cold.
Gold.
Then everything goes black.