Chapter 12 #3
My eyes fluttered shut as he ran his fingers through my hair.
All my tension had disappeared, drowned in a pool of pure ecstasy.
Whether we lay there for minutes, or hours, I couldn’t tell.
I didn’t want the evening to end. No, I wanted to stay in his arms forever.
But when sleep tugged at my eyelids, I found that I didn’t have the strength to resist.
My back was pressed against cold, damp stone.
Ewan stood before me, his blade lingering beneath my chin.
The air around his head rippled, revealing a dark sheen.
I whimpered as his image twisted, contorting into something else.
Something monstrous. His nails lengthened into razor-sharp claws.
His eyes, once a pretty, warm brown, glowed red like smoldering embers.
The beast towered above me, flickering as if it was made of shadows. It opened its mouth, revealing a set of grotesque, bloodied fangs.
“Help!” I screamed, my voice echoing down the empty alley.
“Finn,” came a stern voice. “Wake up.”
I screamed again, but no one was coming to save me. The creature’s claws brushed against my shoulder. I struggled, the blade nicking my throat.
I shot to a seat, nearly butting heads with Mordric. His handsome features were pulled into a frown. My heart pounded furiously in my chest as my surroundings came into focus. I sucked in a shaky breath, dragging my forearm over my brow. It came away slick with sweat.
“You’re safe,” he said, stroking my hair. “It was just a dream.”
I was safe. I was safe because of him. And Ewan was dead. “I’m sorry,” I rasped. “I had a nightmare.”
I shuddered as Mordric slipped an arm around my shoulders, my skin pebbling at his cool touch.
The image of the monster flashed behind my eyes once again.
Ever since I’d left home, I had dreamed of only one thing night after night—flames in a brilliant shade of blue.
Now, it appeared that my mind was intent on torturing me with new imagined horrors.
“I should have warned you,” I whispered.
“Warned me?”
I nodded. “I have nightmares nearly every night. Niamh slept like the dead, so it never mattered before.”
He cupped my jaw, dragging my gaze to meet his. His brows were knitted together, but his tone was soft. “You don’t need to warn me. Or apologize.”
I swallowed. “Thank you.”
“What did you dream of?” he asked.
I hesitated for a moment, taking a steadying breath. “It was Ewan on the night of the attack. Except then he, er …” I faltered, my cheeks warming. “He turned into some sort of monster.”
I braced myself for his laughter, but it didn’t come. Instead, the sheets rustled as he pulled me close. He pressed his lips to my brow, unfurling the tension that had formed there.
“What you went through that night was terrible,” he said. “I can see how it might follow you into your dreams.”
“I think I dreamed of it because I don’t understand it,” I whispered. “It’s been a month, and we still don’t know what happened to Ruby or Alice. Sometimes I wish I could go back there and figure it out for myself.”
He said nothing and his hand traced circles on my back, leaving cool trails on my hot skin.
“Wait!” I grabbed his hands, tugging him in close. His brows rose expectantly.
“What if you went with me?” I proposed. “To where it happened.”
His gaze softened. He brushed a lock of hair behind my ear. “I’m certain my council would strongly advise against it after what happened the last time I wandered into Valnar alone.”
“But you’re the King,” I pointed out.
“Precisely. Which means that I have other things I need to focus on. As do you.”
My enthusiasm faded, replaced with the dull throb of disappointment.
“I told you that I’d put my best people on it, didn’t I?” he asked. “Professionals.”
If Maxence could hear him, he might squeal. I kept the thought to myself. “Have they found anything?” I asked. “Some kind of connection between the disappearances or a motive?”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”
I sighed, tipping sideways onto my pillow. Mordric lay down beside me, his scent reaching my nostrils. I breathed it in greedily.
“Promise me you’ll leave this alone, alright?” he said. “The solstice grows closer and closer each day, and you need to prepare for it, not run off into the city on a whim.”
I repressed a retort. His expression was placid, but there was a sharp edge to his tone. As if I’d insulted him by bringing it up. I was tempted to dive between the folds of his mind, but the memory of my earlier interaction with Niamh warned me against it. “But I—”
“How about this,” he interrupted. “I’ll send a message to Dr. Murrows and ask him to deliver us a tincture of valerian root.”
“Valerian root?” I echoed.
“It helps with sleep,” he explained. “Dreamless sleep.”
I held his gaze for a moment, my protests still on my tongue. I wasn’t pleased that he wanted to keep brushing aside what had happened. Especially when his so-called professionals had turned up nothing. But dreamless sleep? I would give anything for it.
“Alright,” I said finally.
“Consider it done,” he replied, kissing me between my brows.