Chapter 54 Chelsea
Chelsea
SIX MONTHS LATER
My parents did show up a couple of moments after we kissed. Stave appeared, too. It seemed Helena had magicked the entire manor into sleeping while she stole Eryx’s power and killed him.
What a wench.
"That one looks angry," I say, eyeing the nightmare churning in front of us—all gnashing teeth and dripping shadows.
Angry? Nightmare scoffs. That's putting it mildly. That thing looks like it woke up on the wrong side of the abyss and decided to make it everyone else's problem.
Eryx chuckles beside me. "Should we put it out of its misery?"
"Please," I say, extending my claws. They shimmer—gold threaded through black, sharp and eager.
Ooh, the claws. The children are going to love this, Nightmare purrs. Remember when you couldn't even make them appear? Now look at you. Terrifying. Beautiful. I'm so proud.
"You're literally us," Eryx reminds him.
Exactly. Which means I can be proud of myself. It's called self-love, Eryx. Very trendy.
I bite back a laugh as Eryx's magic surges forward, wrapping around the nightmare. Mine follows—not chasing, not competing. We move like dancers who've practiced the same routine a thousand times.
The nightmare shrieks as our combined power pulls it in. It tries to resist, thrashing wildly, but the darkness doesn't flinch. It simply refuses.
The creature dissolves into smoke with a final, indignant wail.
Silence settles over the dream room.
"Fifteen," Eryx says, satisfaction threading his voice.
Sixteen, Nightmare corrects. Chelsea took care of that little leg-biter in the corner while you were busy looking broody and magnificent.
"I wasn't brooding—"
You were absolutely brooding. Very “King of Darkness surveying his domain.” It was hot.
I snort. "He's right. You were brooding. And it was hot.”
Eryx's gaze cuts to me, one dark eyebrow arched. "Traitor."
"Partner," I correct, grinning.
His expression softens. "Partner," he agrees.
The bond hums between us—low, steady, content. Not the unsure pull it used to be, but something warmer. Something chosen every single day.
Eryx crosses to me, and his hand finds mine naturally, like it always does. His thumb brushes over my knuckles.
"You're getting faster," he murmurs.
"We're getting faster," I correct. "It's a team effort."
A very attractive team effort, Nightmare adds helpfully. Seriously, if nightmares could swoon, they would. You two are insufferable.
"You love it," I say.
I tolerate it. There's a difference.
Eryx's other hand drops to my waist, pulling me closer. "Ready to call it a day?”
I glance at the swirling void above us—still churning with dreams and nightmares waiting to be filtered. "There's more."
There's always more, Nightmare says, his voice gentler now. But you've done enough.
I lean into Eryx, letting my head rest against his chest. His heartbeat thrums beneath my ear—steady, alive, mine.
"Okay," I whisper.
For just a moment the dream room fades. It's just us. The darkness and the light. The fury and the softness. Everything we are, braided together.
We leave the dream room and head to the bedroom. Our bedroom. I still get a thrill saying that.
Eryx kicks off his boots, and I flop onto the bed, stretching like a cat.
Graceful, Nightmare comments dryly.
"Shut up," I mutter.
Eryx lies beside me, and his hand finds mine between us. We're quiet for a moment, just breathing together. The bond hums softly.
"Stave told me Helena's trial is next week," he says finally.
My stomach tightens. "And?"
"The council stripped her of everything. Her title, her property, her standing." He pauses. "She's powerless, Chelsea. Completely."
I think about that. "Good," I say quietly.
Agreed, Nightmare adds. Though personally I would've voted for more creative punishment. Like making her eat her own cooking.
That startles a laugh out of me. Eryx's lips quirk.
"She'll live out her days in prison cell," he continues. "Under watch. She won't hurt anyone again."
I roll onto my side to face him. "Do you feel closure?"
He considers that. "Not closure. But peace, maybe. She can't take anything else from me. From us."
He presses his lips to my ear.
"What about you?" he asks. "How do you feel about it?"
I think about the fear, the anger, the broken bond. "I feel like we won."
Eryx pulls me closer until my head is tucked under his chin. I breathe him in—soap and leather and home.
"I've been thinking," he murmurs into my hair.
"Dangerous," I tease.
Extremely, Nightmare agrees.
"About the future," Eryx continues, ignoring us both. "About what we want."
My heart kicks up. "Okay."
"We're filtering nightmares perfectly. The district is stable."
I pull back to look at him. "Your point?"
His ice-blue eyes search mine. "What do you want, Chelsea? Not what your family wants. Not what the district needs. But you.”
The question lands soft but heavy.
I think about it. Really think.
"I want this," I say slowly. "Being your partner in it.” I pause. "But I also want babies. Someday. Not right now, but…someday."
Oh good, Nightmare says. Tiny humans to terrorize. I'm in.
Eryx's expression softens. "When we're ready."
"What about you?" I ask. "What do you want?"
He's quiet for a moment. When he speaks, his voice is rough with emotion. "I just want to wake up next to you every morning. Everything else is negotiable."
My throat tightens. "That's it? That's all you want?"
"That's everything, Chelsea."
I kiss him then, soft and slow. Eryx's hand slides up my side, his touch leaving trails of heat.
"Nightmare," he murmurs, his lips brushing my jaw. "Give us privacy."
There's a beat of silence in my head.
Oh. OH. A pause. Right. Yes. Privacy. I'll just… be over here. Doing literally anything else.
"Thank you," I say, fighting a smile.
Though for the record, I've been very good about not commenting on—
"Nightmare," Eryx growls.
Fine, fine. I'm gone. Pretend I don't exist.
And then—silence. Real silence. Just me and Eryx and the bond humming softly between us.
He pulls back to look at me, and something in his expression makes my breath catch. It's not hunger. It's deeper than that.
"Hi," I whisper.
His mouth quirks. "Hi."
Then he kisses me, and it's not desperate or frantic like it used to be. It's sure. Steady. Like he has all the time in the world to learn the shape of my mouth.
I arch into him, and his hand slides under my shirt, palms warm against my skin. The bond flares—not painful, not overwhelming.
Magic coils between us, and I feel his shadows respond to my light. They don't clash. They dance.
"Chelsea," he breathes against my neck.
My fingers find the buttons of his shirt, and I work them open one by one. His chest is warm under my hands, muscles shifting as he helps me pull the fabric away.
I trace the line of his collarbone, down his sternum, and the bond thrums louder. I can feel his heartbeat like it's my own.
"Your turn," he murmurs, tugging at my shirt.
I lift my arms, and he pulls it over my head.
His fingers trace my ribs, featherlight. "You're beautiful."
My magic flares in response, and before I can stop it, my claws manifest—gold and black threading across my fingers.
I freeze. "Sorry, I—"
"Don't." He catches my wrist, brings my clawed hand to his face. Presses a kiss to my palm. "I love them."
The bond hums so loud I feel it in my teeth.
He lowers me back onto the bed, his body covering mine. The weight of him grounds me, steadies me. His mouth finds my neck, my collarbone, lower.
I gasp when his hand slides between my thighs, and the bond surges—magic braiding together, his and mine, inseparable.
"Eryx—"
"I've got you," he murmurs.
And he does. He always has.
His fingers move with purpose, and my back arches off the bed. The shadows ripple around us, responding to every gasp, every sigh.
When he finally moves over me, when he presses into me, the bond doesn't hurt. It sings.
We move together—slow at first, then deeper, faster. His wings curve around us, cocooning us in darkness threaded with gold. Magic crashes between us in waves, building, cresting.
I dig my claws into his shoulders—not hard enough to hurt, just enough to anchor. His breath hitches.
"Chelsea," he groans, and it's my name and a prayer all at once.
The bond tightens, pulls, and then—
I shatter.
The climax rips through me, and I feel his following a heartbeat later. Magic explodes outward, shadows and light tangled together, and for one perfect moment we're not two people.
We're one.
When the world settles, we're both breathing hard. Eryx collapses beside me, pulling me into his chest.
My claws retract. His wings fold. The bond hums contentedly, satisfied.
We lie there for a long moment, just breathing. His fingers trace lazy patterns on my shoulder.
"I love you," I whisper.
"I love you back.”
The bond pulses once, warm and certain.
And then, very quietly from the back of my mind: Are you two done? Because I have thoughts about dinner.
I burst out laughing. Eryx groans.
"We're done," I call out loud.
Thank gods. I was getting bored.
"You were supposed to be giving us privacy," Eryx mutters.
I did! I gave you a whole fifteen minutes. That's practically forever. Now can we please discuss food?
I curl into Eryx's side, grinning. "He's right. I'm starving."
Eryx presses a kiss to my hair. "Fine. Let's eat."
Finally. Someone who listens to reason.