Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
The moment Chase steps back, Adric’s hand closes around mine.
That’s it. That’s the whole transfer. One man’s fingers letting go, another man’s fingers holding on, and me standing between them in a stunning gown of ironically virginal white, feeling the weight of both their gazes like gravity pulling in two directions at once.
I don’t look back, but as Adric leads me forward, it’s as if I can feel Chase’s presence like a wall of warmth at my back—and yet that warmth is already starting to cool.
Adric’s eyes meet mine, and whatever I expected to find there—triumph, possession, the smugness of a king getting what he demanded—isn’t what I see.
Instead, I see gratitude, as if the only reason I’m standing beside him now is to set him free of the curse that has him bound to this castle and its grounds.
As if he can’t fathom that I’m standing here because our marriage was the price for Chase’s life.
All he sees is freedom, and while I’m truly happy to be able to give it to him, I can’t help but wonder if this king who made love to me so sweetly just a few hours ago truly cares for me at all.
Then again, why would he? I’m a nineteen-year-old girl in a strange new world. It makes zero sense that I’m about to become the queen of some exotic realm that exists in an alternate dimension.
I mean, come on…
But then I glance at him, and his head cocks in question.
I flash a quick smile. I’m okay.
And I guess I really am. True, I don’t fully know where I stand, but lately that’s become the story of my life. Once upon a time, I thought I was just a college freshman. I’m getting used to adjusting my expectations.
And now I’m standing in a throne room about to be officially engaged to a man who wants me—and who I want right back.
Want. Not love. But right now, that doesn’t matter. I’m here to pay a price. And so I walk at Adric’s side back up the steps to the empty dais where the simple chair that acts as a throne has been removed for the occasion.
In front of us, a man in a blood-red robe begins to speak in a language I don’t understand. This is the pomp and circumstance that accompanies a royal marriage, so I try to keep my expression neutral as I look out over the room, so different from the last time I saw it.
Dozens of figures line the walls. Some wear armor like Kali’s. Others stand in robes of deep, iridescent colors. Most look human. Several look like the monsters that live in nightmares—probably because they are.
Some don’t look monstrous at all. One, in fact, is quite beautiful, with skin that glows a lovely pale blue.
Another’s hair seems to be styling and re-styling itself.
The man beside her stands with his arms crossed, waves of heat coming off of him, and hair that seems to move like flames.
His eyes catch mine, and a chill races up my spine as his lips curve into a slow, dangerous sneer. I shudder.
“Dignitaries,” Adric says. Representatives of the other Realms.”
“Oh,” I say, realizing that I should have expected it. This is a royal betrothal, after all, and from what I’ve seen at home, being royal pretty much means being seen.
Then I frown, because if dignitaries from other realms are here, that means representatives of all the various nightmare breeds are probably here, too.
I fight the urge to grimace as I think of Vexarin, the vile creature that would have killed Tia and me if Whistler and Chase hadn’t intervened.
Hopefully, I won’t be meeting his cousins tonight.
And then—almost like an afterthought, I notice a half-hidden woman in a dark hood near the back wall, standing off to one side with the awkward posture of someone who stumbled in by accident and can’t figure out how to leave.
I can’t see her face, but something about her seems familiar.
I’m trying to figure it out when I catch a glimpse of Maren—Kali’s librarian—and her presence is oddly comforting.
At least there’s one face I recognize, even if it’s the wrong one.
Someone crosses in front of me, blocking my view. And when they clear out, Maren is still there, but the hooded woman is gone. Must have poofed, actually, because she wasn’t standing near a door.
I frown because now I’m guessing that pretty much anyone in this room can go poof.
Yeah. My life has become very, very strange.
But despite the strangeness of the guests and the whole freaky situation, I can’t help but feel a little giddy. Yes, I know this engagement is the payment for Chase’s life. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m about to live that little girl fantasy and get engaged to a king.
And, yes, I know it’s all transactional, but that same little girl inside me wishes Tia were here. A bride-to-be needs her bestie. More, I wish I had a dad who could give me away.
And oh, how I wish Mom were alive to see this.
Would she be worried? Happy? Would she have some wisdom to finally impart? More than the absolute nothing she told me about our strange family line and my fate as the last Bride?
Why, Mom? Why couldn’t you have mentioned it even once? Left me a folder in a safe deposit box. Something, anything to give me a clue?
I sigh, thinking of the way my imagination had conjured her on the terrace. Or maybe it wasn’t an illusion. Maybe she is here, lost in the crowd of subjects.
Except that, of course, is just a little girl’s wish, and I force myself to still my wandering thoughts as Adric turns to face me.
That’s when I realize that the robed man is no longer speaking in that strange tongue. The hall has gone completely quiet, and even the silver flames seem to be holding their breath.
“Cora.” Adric’s voice carries without effort. “You came to me freely.”
I meet his eyes. “I came to save Chase,” I say, because I’m not going to let this ceremony hang on a lie. “But yes. I came freely.”
Irritation flickers across his face, but it’s mixed with something soft, too.
“And you understand what this betrothal means?”
“It means you’re free,” I say. “Once we’re engaged—I mean betrothed—the emperor’s curse breaks, and you can leave this castle and its grounds for the first time since you broke the Guardian apart.” I tilt my head as I hold his gaze. “That’s all this means.”
I let the rest go unstated. There will be no marriage.
No wedding night consummation. Chase told me the prophecy long ago—a prophecy that says the king will find a mate of Imperial blood, and the willing consummation of that union between the king and the Bride will shatter the barriers between realms.
No way in hell am I going to be the reason the barriers fall, releasing a flurry of dark and dangerous creatures to burst out and destroy my home.
We’re facing each other, but we’re both angled so that we can see the courtiers. Now, I sweep my gaze over them, not surprised that none seem to understand what Adric clearly knows—that I’m drawing the no consummation line publicly.
“Of course, my love,” he says in a kingly voice, then adds in a near-whisper, “Then we will have to make good use of the time before we say our wedding vows.”
I scowl. Not because of his words, but because I like that little loophole far too much.
The flicker of his grin suggests that he can read my mind, and for a moment, I grin back. Then my smile fades as he lifts his free hand, and Kali steps forward. I really don’t like that woman.
I know the feeling is mutual, but in public, she’s totally composed. She doesn’t shoot me even a single vile glance. Instead, there’s just her smooth ceremonial deference as she passes a small wooden box to Adric before bowing in a way that’s just deep enough to be respectful.
Adric opens the box to reveal a bed of black silk on which rests a lovely crystal vial on a delicate silver chain. The vial is small—not even one inch long—and it holds a thick liquid that catches the firelight like a liquid ruby.
“Blood,” Adric says, his voice carrying again, firm and regal.
“My blood.” He turns to me, his tone softer when he says, “In the Nightmare Realm, betrothal is not sealed with a ring. Instead, the groom offers what runs through him—his strength, his lineage, his life—and the bride’s acceptance seals the betrothal. ”
He lifts the chain from the box, his eyes on me. “Cora Lyte. Daughter of the Imperial line. Will you accept my blood as my bond?”
I look at the vial. At his blood, red and real and nothing like a diamond.
I think about every engagement ring I’ve ever seen in a movie—sparkly things in velvet boxes, offered with champagne and sunsets. This is so far from normal that normal needs a telescope to see it.
But when I look at Adric’s face—at the way he’s watching me, his eyes bright with something I can’t quite name—I realize this is more than just a ceremony to him. More than a magical exit plan from his castle and grounds. This is everything.
I’m everything.
Without thinking, I let my gaze sweep across the room. I find Chase’s eyes.
He understands, too.
I look swiftly away, my attention back on Adric. “Yes,” I say, because that’s the promise I made to save Chase’s life. But I also mean the words, and that’s a different kind of problem.
I hold up my shoulder-length hair, and he clasps the chain around my neck.
I feel the vial settle against my chest, warmer than I’d expected.
The room is silent, waiting. And in that pause, I desperately wish I had an anchor—something familiar, but not Chase.
Something from my life before I knew any of this dream stuff.
Something that grounds me back in the world I’m going to return to.
And then, as if the castle wants to please me, I find him. There. Against the wall.
Uncle Finn.
Someone has put a soft peach-colored robe on him, something he wouldn’t have picked in a thousand years. His glasses sit crooked, and he’s looking at the ceiling with a small, vague smile. He doesn’t see me, but that’s okay. At least he’s here.
I fiddle with my ring, now warm on my finger, and I can’t help but smile. I don’t know why, but having the ring on my finger while the vial is around my neck makes me feel a little bit like Mom’s here. Silly, I know. But I’ll take it.
“My bride,” Adric says, straightening as he extends his hands to me. I take them, soothed by the touch of his skin against mine. “Cora Lyte, I claim you as my betrothed,” he says. “Before this court and this realm. By blood given and blood accepted.”
A sound moves through the hall—a hum, almost. The castle itself vibrates with it, the stones trembling so faintly I almost think I’m imagining it.
Then I feel it. A shift. Like the air pressure changing before a storm, except it’s not the air—it’s the castle. The walls. The foundation.
It’s the curse. And it’s breaking.
Adric feels it too. His hands tighten around mine, and his eyes go wide—not with surprise, but with pure undiluted joy.
“Come,” he says, his voice rough.
He doesn’t wait for protocol or for the congratulations usually thrown at a newly engaged couple.
He just takes my hand and pulls us past Chase toward the massive doors at the far end of the throne room.
I catch Chase’s eyes for just a second as we pass—he’s not following, but his gaze tracks me as I go.
Then the doors open, and we’re outside.
“How does it feel?” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “We’re still on the castle grounds.
” He hurries us down a long sidewalk, then stops at a simple iron gate.
Beyond, the desert stretches in every direction.
The five moons hang low on the horizon, pale now in the morning.
The sand glows, and the wind carries the sulfuric edge I’m starting to think of as the realm’s perfume.
Adric pushes open the gate, then stops. “I’ve not been beyond the castle grounds since before The Breaking.”
I extend my hand for his. “Then I think it’s time.”
He looks at me, rolls his shoulders, then takes two steps as he leaves the castle grounds to walk free in the Nightmare Realm.
And that’s it. There’s no flash of light, no thunderclap, no cosmic fanfare. He just steps forward, and the boundary that held him—the punishment he’d borne for tearing the Guardian apart—is simply gone.
But his face. God, his face.
He lifts his head to the sky, and I watch something move through him that’s neither joy nor relief. It’s bigger than both. He breathes in, and when he exhales, it’s as if something that has been coiled tight inside him has finally let go.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
I nod awkwardly, then dip my head as the enormity of what I’ve done settles over me, along with the terrifying awareness that I did it with another man’s name carved into my heart.
Out of reflex, I glance over my shoulder, and sure enough, Chase followed us. He’s standing in the archway, its stones casting a shadow that masks his expression.
But I can see that it’s not me he’s watching. No, his gaze is aimed firmly at Adric, and what I see on his face isn’t hatred or jealousy or even regret. Instead, I see fear. As if Chase is certain that Adric will use his newfound freedom to burn down the world—just as he’d split the Guardian.
But I know better. If Adric had wanted to burn down the world, he’d always had Kali to do it for him. And the world is still standing.
So far.