Chapter 24 Nightmares
Nightmares
Selene!” The voice curls through my dream like a thread of silk. My name. My real name. I haven’t heard it spoken aloud in what feels like forever. I turn toward the sound, heart fluttering, mind soft.
I’m standing in a ballroom of glass and gold, the chandelier above me burning like captive starlight. Mirrors scale the walls as musicians play a waltz I know by heart.
My dress shimmers, delicate white silk embroidered with silver thread. The gossamer fabric clings to my waist and flares at my hips like moonlight in motion. My hair is pinned high, braided with jasmine and pearls.
A dream. A memory. A warning.
Because he is there. Edric Grey. My fiancé.
Tall. Slender. His orange beard is trimmed to perfection, not a strand out of place. His doublet is gold, too gold. Eyes the color of melting ice, pale and cold, are fixed on me with that hungry, hollow stare I still see in every nightmare.
“You’re not supposed to be in here,” I say, stepping back into the threshold of my chambers. In the mirror, I catch a glimpse of myself. Radiant. Fragile. Breakable.
He doesn’t stop advancing, doesn’t even smile. Just calmly turns and slides the bolt shut behind him.
“We’re to be married,” he says, stepping forward. “Soon, Selene. It’s only natural.”
“No, it isn’t,” I whisper coldly as he closes the distance. “Get out.”
But he doesn’t listen. He never does. His gloved hand reaches for my arm, and I flinch away.
But I’m not fast enough. He touches my wrist, then seizes it and brings his mouth to mine in a vicious kiss. He reeks of whiskey.
And suddenly I’m thrown—slammed—back against the wall, my head cracking against the carved paneling. The stars above the chandelier shatter in my vision.
“Stop,” I gasp, fighting the swirl of silk and satin as his hands yank at the tiny ties down my back. “Don’t do this. Please, stop—”
His lips crash into mine. Brutal. Possessive. Inhuman.
I twist, trying to shove him off.
Edric only snarls and grabs a fistful of my dress.
I bite him as hard as I can. His blood fills my mouth. Howling in pain, he finally releases me.
I run, feet pounding against the marble, and yank on the door only to find that it won’t open. I flee through the window, climbing down a tree.
My slippers fall off, but all I can think is, Faster.
Through the rose garden. Into the dark beyond. My body trembles, heart exploding, mind spinning.
The stables. Horses. Guards. Safety.
But no one’s there—only Gentleman, my white stallion.
Sobbing, I race into the shadows, Edric hot on my heels. I can hear his ragged breath behind me.
“Selene!”
As I reach the stall, Gentleman’s eyes flash toward me, wide and alert.
I slip in the damp straw, hitting the muddy floor with a thud that knocks the breath from my lungs.
And then Edric is on me. Pinning me. Straddling me, one hand at my throat, the other yanking up my dress.
“No,” I scream. “Stop! Please—stop—someone, help—”
The weight crushes me.
And then—a flash of white. A crack. A scream—his, not mine.
Then… darkness.
I wake screaming. The cave swirls in my vision, the remnants of the dream still blazing through my blood. My heart slams against my ribs like it’s trying to escape its cage. My fists are clenched, my body braced against a danger that is not there. I’m not in my room. I’m not in the stables. I’m—
Arms wrap around me from behind, strong yet gentle.
I panic, shrieking, “Get off me—!”
“Fire…” The whisper is gravel and velvet.
Fire? Not Selene?
Keiren.
Keiren.
I freeze, but his arms don’t tighten. They just stay, as steady as stone and just as still.
“It’s alright,” he murmurs. “You’re safe. You’re here with me.”
I’m shaking. I can’t breathe.
He releases me instantly. He doesn’t move, doesn’t ask questions. Just… waits.
The fire crackles softly in the distance. The mist from the spring clings to the air like a second skin. My skin is slick with sweat. My whole body trembles as if the nightmare is still crawling under my skin.
“You don’t have to talk,” he says after a moment. “Just breathe with me, okay?”
His voice is a thread, not a chain.
I close my eyes. In four. Hold four. Out four. I count the breaths like they might stitch me back together, as if they might make me whole again. Slowly, my body relaxes, and I realize he hasn’t moved. He’s still here. Still close, still quiet.
I reach for my blanket and clutch it to my chest like it might hold the shame in. But I don’t turn away.
“I had a fiancé once,” I say, voice rasping through the dark. Keiren only listens. I swallow hard and continue, “Edric Grey, the eldest son of a wealthy nobleman. Charming, at first. My father arranged the match.”
My throat tightens.
“And then, one night… he followed me to my chambers. It was just us in the house. I told him to leave.” My voice falters. “He didn’t.”
I pause, trying to take control of my breathing. In four. Hold four. Out four.
“So, I ran,” I whisper, still avoiding Keiren’s gaze. “Fought. Bit him. I made it to the stables, where attendants always are, but there was no one there. He caught me.”
Keiren’s breath slows, as if syncing his rhythm with mine, a silent offering.
“He tried to…” My voice trails off. I can’t say it aloud. Even after all these years, I can’t say it. “But my horse—Gentleman—he saved me. Kicked Edric in the head.”
The memory rips from my throat like a blade.
“He was never the same after that. And Gentleman… they put him down. They said it was my fault.” A sob escapes my chest before I can stop it. “That night, everything slipped through my fingers—freedom, reputation, the illusion of belonging. And when my father looked at me…”
My heart tries to claw its way up my throat, choking me up. I take a moment, swallowing back tears before trying again to speak around them.
“He wasn’t just angry, Keiren. He looked at me like I was a monster.”
A hush settles around us, broken only by the soft crackle of the fire. The water ripples faintly nearby. When I finally have the courage to meet Keiren’s gaze, it’s ablaze with raw rage.
“I’ll kill him.” He stands abruptly, turning toward the mouth of the cave.
“Wait! Stop!” I rise and intercept him, heart pounding.
“He will burn.”
His eyes burn with a fury unlike anything I’ve ever seen. He can’t possibly cross the barrier again. And if he sends the dragon… the whole city will burn. In the flickering firelight, his face is half-shadowed, half-bared.
“You didn’t kill him,” he snarls, “but I will.”
“No—please don’t. You told me you have enough blood on your hands.” My chest heaves. “Living the rest of his life as a vegetable is enough.”
He turns away, back toward the cascade of the waterfall. “No, Fire. Any life is too good a fate for the man who hurt you.”
Something in me snaps. My hand shoots out before I can think, seizing the warm fabric of his shirt.
He freezes, muscles coiled beneath my grip. I don’t let go.
His eyes meet mine, dark and unreadable. Firelight dances in them like lightning behind storm clouds.
“I will not suffer him to live another second,” Keiren says, his voice low and dangerous. “He will burn,” he says again, “they all will.”
By the look in his eyes, I know he means it. If I let go, he’ll disappear into the darkness, and by morning, Veyora will be nothing but ash.
Panic surges through me. Not again. Not another death because of me. Not more blood on his hands, staining what little light still flickers in him.
He’d do it. He’d tear the world apart for me—and it would destroy him.
I should speak. I should beg. I should stop him.
But the words are lost, scattered in the surge of everything I feel.
This strange ache, this burning gravity—it keeps pulling me back to him, again and again.
He’s right here, real and raw and wrecked.
And something inside me knows I’ll never forgive myself if I let him walk away.
Something in me gives, and I close the distance between us.
The kiss isn’t gentle. It isn’t careful. It’s pure need—raw and aching. My hands slide into his thick hair as I press closer, and for one wild heartbeat, I wonder if he’ll stop me.
He doesn’t.
Keiren’s arms come around me, shattering the last of the distance between us, and I surrender—to the strength of his embrace, to the way one hand settles at my back, steady and sure, while the other threads through my hair.
I tilt my head back, offering him better access, and he deepens the kiss. The world narrows.
Heat. Breath.
His scent surrounds me—cedar and rain, smoke and spring water. Ancient. Wild. Him.
A soft sound slips from me as he draws me closer, until there’s no space left to retreat into.
I open for him, and when his mouth moves against mine, he groans low in his throat.
We fall into it like flame meeting air—sudden, inevitable.
The cave dissolves.
When we finally part, we’re breathless, foreheads pressed together, chests rising and falling in an uneven rhythm.
“Please,” I whisper. “Don’t leave me.”
He rests his forehead against mine. His breath is warm. Steady.
“Never,” he murmurs.
I smile—soft, unguarded—and don’t let go.
He kisses me again, slower this time, as if memorizing the shape of my mouth rather than claiming it. I savor the taste of him, the warmth, the quiet promise in the way he lingers.
Then his lips leave mine and find my forehead instead—gentle, unhurried, reverent.
Without another word, he lifts me into his arms and carries me back toward the fire, toward the bed he made for us. I curl into his chest, and we lie together beside the flames. The storm rages on outside—but here in his arms, I am held.
Here I am safe.