CHAPTER THIRTY
ELIAS
Warmth settled around Elias’s heart when Cadi smiled at him from across the table.
Her smile always did that. No matter how stressed or tired or broken he felt, her smile brought him back.
New colors seemed to dance across his vision to the sound of her laughter filling the small café, shifting through the sun that poured from the windows as he traced his thumb against the back of her hand.
He could spend the rest of his life just staring at her, committing every piece of her to memory.
The pale blue of her eyes, the curve of her jaw, the way she tugged her bottom lip between her teeth when she caught him looking.
He felt himself laugh, but he couldn’t remember why.
She hadn’t said anything, in fact, he realized he didn’t even know what they were talking about.
“Aw, she’s cute when she does that, isn’t she?”
Elias stiffened, the familiar, cold voice echoing close.
Too close. Its inky tendrils twisted inside his mind, and when he blinked, the café was empty.
Cadi was gone, the sound of conversation and laughter snuffed out in an instant, replaced by an ominous silence.
A shiver crept down his spine when the sun flickered, cold moonlight cutting a path through the darkness in its place.
A knot gripped his stomach as he twisted in his chair.
Where was Cadi? Where was he? How had he gotten here?
He pressed his hands against the table, trying to ground himself to a time or place that made sense, but nothing pressed back.
Looking down, he could see his hands resting against the polished wood, but he couldn’t feel it.
Understanding sank through him, hollow and cold as solid images of his last memories before the café flashed through his mind: Cadi asleep next to him, the cool fabric of his pillowcase, the heaviness of his limbs as he drifted off with her in his arms.
A dream. This was a dream.
Silken laughter drifted from the shadows. “You always were my smartest disciple, Elias.”
His head snapped to the corner of the room, to the lone figure that sat half obscured in shadow. Manicured fingers drummed against the table, the sound too loud for the delicate movement as it echoed across his dreamscape, making ice settle in his veins.
“Oneirios …” Elias hissed.
In a fluid motion, the god stood, a satisfied smirk curving his bow-shaped lips as he stepped from the shadows and into the ethereal light.
His black suit contrasted with the pale beam, and the moonlight caught in his blond waves to cast an angelic glow around his head.
The irony of it was enough to make Elias sick.
Oneirios was about the farthest thing from an angel that one could get.
Oneirios sucked his teeth. “Weren’t you ever taught that it’s rude to talk about someone as if they aren’t there, Elias?”
In a flash of biting panic, Elias realized his mistake. With practiced focus, he clicked shut a mental door, one crafted over years of practice with Sera for one reason and one reason only. To quietly conceal any trace of their plan, or Elias’s role in it, from the god that stood in front of him.
“It’s been a while,” Oneirios crooned. “Tell me, have you missed my little visits to your mind, old friend?”
“I am not your friend,” Elias bit out. He knew Oneirios was baiting him, pushing him, hoping he would snap. And he hated that it was working.
Oneirios clutched at his chest in feigned hurt. “You wound me,” he mocked, “but nothing hurts quite as much as the sting of your most recent betrayal.”
The gentle lines of his face drew sharp with a fury that simmered beneath his flawless skin. The god stared him down, and Elias’s pulse ticked up as he strained to keep a lock on his thoughts—not only of the gods, but of Cadi as well.
Oneirios prowled forward, stalking toward him through the tables with smooth, languid steps. “I thought you would have learned your lesson from what happened after your little public fit, but it would appear I was wrong. You know how much I hate to be wrong.”
Oneirios shook his head, his tone dripping with condescension and disappointment.
Almost as if he were lecturing a disobedient child.
Elias kept his expression locked, obscuring any reaction that might give him away.
Oneirios could be talking about anything, or nothing. And Elias couldn’t show his hand.
“One of my newest acolytes tells me that your little girlfriend was poking around in my office this evening,” he continued, “I don’t yet know why, but I’m very, very disappointed, Elias. My patience with you is running thin.”
Fuck. A hollow pit opened in Elias’s stomach. The office Cadi found had been Oneirios’s, and he’d let her walk right into his web. He was supposed to be the one to protect her, to keep her safe. But he might as well have handed her to Oneirios personally. He’d failed her.
The god’s lips twitched, barely able to contain his delight as he watched Elias’s slow realization of the role he had played in their destruction. Taking another step forward, Oneirios ran a finger seductively over the table beside him.
“She’s actually quite clever, your Arcadia,” he said Cadi’s name slowly, like he was tasting it as it slid across his viper tongue. Elias’s hands tightened into fists. “Maybe I’ll just … take her for myself. See what has you so enthralled.”
The tether on his rage snapped, and Elias lunged, launching himself from the chair at Oneirios’s mocking form, only for his fist to pass through him like smoke. His body crashed into the table on the other side, the jarring sting of his impact painfully real now that Oneirios wanted it to be.
“Leave her alone,” he growled, pushing himself up. “I’m the one who fucked up; she has nothing to do with this.”
Oneirios was on him in a single, powerful stride, his now-solid body pressing into Elias’s and forcing him back down. “She has everything to do with this,” he hissed. “You know that better than anyone. Or hadn’t I made myself clear over the past decade?”
His cold eyes searched Elias’s face, his perfect brows lifting in surprised amusement. “Oh,” Oneirios breathed, “did you actually think you could shield her from me? That I wouldn’t figure out that you’d found her?”
His features pulled into a look of false sympathy. “I can only imagine the strain your little secret must put on the relationship. Too bad you can’t just tell her.”
“You made sure I couldn’t,” Elias spit back. “The changes you made to my binding saw to that.”
Oneirios smirked, a self-satisfied chuckle drifting from his lips. “Yes. I did, didn’t I? You really should have read the fine print.”
The dream god straightened, his features sliding effortlessly back into a mask of cool composure as he tugged the hem of his suit and flicked an invisible piece of lint from his sleeve. Elias stood to face him, a muscle ticking against the tight clench of his jaw.
Oneirios just stared back, folding his hands delicately in front of him as he let out a soft sigh, the edges of his form beginning to blur. “You can’t protect her, Elias. You never could.”
Elias’s voice quivered. “I won’t let you get to her.”
A low, sinister chuckle reverberated from Oneirios’s chest, the shockwaves slamming into Elias with vicious force. “It isn’t me you need to protect her from,” he taunted, pressing forward until the fabric of his suit brushed Elias’s chest. “No matter what you do, Elias, you will be her end.”
“No.” Elias shook his head, the sharp defiance betrayed by the break in his voice. “No. I could never—I would never hurt her.”
“Hmm,” Oneirios crooned, tapping a finger against his chin. “Interesting. Then tell me … why is she crying?”
Sadistic delight sparked in the god’s eyes at the fragile sound that bled into Elias’s mind. Muffled sobs, Cadi’s sobs, sliced through him like a knife. He spun, frantically searching for her, but they were alone. She wasn’t there. Elias surged forward to grip the lapels of Oneirios’s suit.
“What have you done? Where is she?”
Oneirios smirked, his answering chuckle slithering over Elias’s skin. “Oh, it really is just too good.”
Elias stared at him, his panic rising, the edges of his vision burning red.
As he watched, Oneirios seemed to flicker, and his expression shifted to something unreadable.
The god lifted his hand to his nose, his eyes going wide for an instant at the red smear left against his skin.
But before Elias could blink, Oneirios’s mask of calm confidence slid back into place.
“It’s time to wake up, Priest.”
The god lifted his hand again, and with a snap of his fingers, the moon-soaked scene dissolved, melting into a cold darkness.
Details began to sharpen, the shapes surrounding Elias clawing at his memory but refusing to fully form.
Through the fog, he was just able to see two figures standing in front of him, their features blurred and shrouded.
Elias tried to move, but his limbs refused to obey him. A cold fist gripped his gut when he realized Oneirios still had his claws in him, holding him suspended between dream and waking.
Trapped.
With a sudden lurch, Oneirios released his hold.
Elias swayed at the violent return of control, his limbs still heavy with lingering sleep as waves of familiar sensations crashed over him: cold tile beneath his feet, the smell of his soap, the outline of his mirror, something warm pressed against him.
Then, the god’s dark laughter whispered through the gloom, ricocheting against Elias’s skull.
“You could just do it, you know. It would be so easy…”
Elias raged against the haze that still blanketed his mind, trying to understand the taunt as a familiar, sickening pull re-emerged from somewhere behind his ribs.
He sucked in a breath as the remaining fog of his dream was ripped away.
His vision cleared so quickly it made his head spin, and he blinked in confusion at his own reflection staring back at him.
Pain shot through his arm, and his eyes darted around, searching for the source, only for his chest to be ripped open when his gaze locked on Cadi.
In the mirror he could see her clearly. Her terrified sobs shattered him as she clawed at his arm where he had it wrapped around her, holding her in place.
Blood bloomed where her nails desperately raked over his skin.
He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head, screaming in his mind to wake up, but this wasn’t a dream anymore.
He was awake. Cadi was real. And she was begging for her life.
Begging him.
Her voice tore at him, pleading for him to stop, to let her go. She whispered his name over and over, terror and confusion twisting her beautiful features. With a jolt, he understood why.
Following her panicked eyes in the mirror, he saw it. Cold metal clutched in his hand, pressed to her temple, his finger brushing the trigger.
His gun.
Right where Oneirios had left it.
The pull behind his ribs intensified, the desire to flex his finger nearly overpowering him, but he couldn’t let it. He had to fight. He had to.
Blinding pain erupted behind his eyes, and an agonized scream tore from his throat as he fought against Oneirios’s binding, finally breaking free of its hold with a piercing snap.
Elias slumped against the wall, the gun clattered to the floor, and Cadi collapsed to the ground, her knees buckling beneath the weight of her fear when his arm finally obeyed his command to release her.
He stared down at his shaking hands and worked to push past the pain in his skull. His mind refused to accept what was happening, to believe it was real. The hands that had held her, protected her, worshipped every inch of her like she was sacred …
The hands that had now betrayed her.
His gut churned, thick and acidic. Even knowing he hadn’t been in control, that Oneirios had somehow taken full control of his body while he slept and used it for his twisted game, that didn’t erase the dark truth of what he knew was now etched into Cadi’s mind.
Her sobs pulled him back to where she still knelt on the floor, her body trembling with shock and adrenaline, breaths coming in quick, panicked gulps.
“Cadi…” he said her name softly. His eyes raked over her, looking for any sign that he had …
He swallowed hard. The thought of how close he had come to actually hurting her pulled bile into his throat, but he knew it wasn’t physical wounds that she now carried. No.
The damage he had done—that Oneirios had done—was much worse.
She twisted around to face him, her eyes going wide as she retreated until her spine pressed into the cabinet and she pulled her knees tight against herself, sobs wracking her body.
He wanted nothing more than to hold her, to make her feel safe again, but that safety had been destroyed. Elias lowered himself to the floor and reached for her, only for his heart to shatter when she flinched back.
“Don’t you fucking touch me!” she cried, her voice trembling.
Something cracked open inside him. The way she looked at him, like he was the danger. Like he was the threat. His body went numb as he realized that, right now, to her—he was.
Keeping her eyes locked on him, Cadi pushed up and bolted from the bathroom, her feet slipping on the smooth tile. Elias followed her into the bedroom, where she yanked on a hoodie with shaking hands, then snatched up her phone. Keys. Purse.
The anguish in his chest compounded. He didn’t trust himself, but he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her either. He had to do something.
Rounding the bed, he reached for her hand, and for one fleeting second, their skin touched before she yanked away violently and sprinted into the hall.
Time dilated. Elias stumbled after her, his steps heavy, the space between them growing. He heard his voice whisper her name, but it felt wrong. Like it didn’t belong to him.
Pain exploded through his body as he collided with the unforgiving granite of the kitchen island.
Cadi’s frantic sobs pierced through him, the sound delayed and distorted.
He lifted his head, watching helplessly as she threw open the door.
It flew into the wall with an explosive bang that echoed in the silence.
Then she was gone.
The air left his lungs. He collapsed to the floor, burying his face in his traitorous hands. Only the burning memory of what he had done remained with him in the empty dark.