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She looked the same, yet different. The shadows were adorning her, of course, but there was more. She brought her face close to the mirror, studying her reflection. Her silver hair was almost…silkier, shimmering like starlight. Maybe this was a dream after all. Her ears were slightly elongated, coming to points at the ends. She could’ve sworn she was a few inches taller somehow. Everything about her seemed longer, more graceful.
Scarlett left the closet, her footsteps completely silent on themarble floor. The door to the chambers was half open, and she slipped through to find herself in living quarters. It was larger than the bedroom chambers. A large brick red sofa occupied the center with an overstuffed chair on each side, forming a U-shape around the fireplace on the opposite wall. On the far right was a grand piano, polished and gleaming. There were three doors along the far wall leading somewhere. But on the far left and directly in front of her was a long dining table with platters of breakfast foods lining the length of it.
Scarlett’s stomach grumbled, and she took slow steps towards the food. Real or dream? She still hadn’t decided. She cautiously took a piece of melon and popped it in her mouth. The juice exploded. She must have been starving, because it tasted better than any melon she’d ever had. She took a few more bites of fruit and picked up a cherry pastry. She was halfway through the pastry when the main door opened.
“Sorin, your Inner Court are some of the whiniest bunch of—” a man started, but stopped short at the sight of Scarlett.
Scarlett turned to study him. She’d decided after the first bite of pastry this was likely a dream, so rather than reach for her dagger, she took another bite of the cherry treat, waiting to see how this particular scene would play out. Would she even remember it? It had been a rather dull dream so far.
The man had shoulder length hair that was so blonde it was nearly white, as if he spent every day in the sun. His eyes were the bluest she’d ever seen and reminded her of her own. He was muscled and built just like Sorin. He wore pants that hugged all the right areas and a loose fitting tunic that still managed to show off his chest.
“Scarlett,” he said cautiously, “you are awake.”
Scarlett cocked her head to the side. He knew her? She put the last of the pastry in her mouth, watching him.
“Does Sorin know you are awake?” the man asked, taking a tentative step into the room.
Scarlett took a step back, and as she did, a ring of fire encircled the man. Her shadows swelled, reaching tendrils of darkness to him.He swore and a thin shield of water appeared between him and the fire. Scarlett merely raised her eyebrows. Water. Not fire?
“Scarlett, please,” the man said. “I am a friend. I swear it.”
Scarlett just stared at him. She picked up a pear from the table and took a bite, leaning against the table as she continued watching him.
“Sorin!” the man called.
Scarlett’s head snapped to one of the doors along the opposite wall. She heard his muffled voice yell something about being there in a moment.
“Aditya, now!” the man called again. Scarlett turned her attention back to him. Sweat was forming along his brow.
“Coming,” came an exasperated huff and then, “Ho-ly hell.”
Sorin appeared at the doorway of the middle room. He held an open book in his hand, which he promptly closed and set on a low table near him. He wore loose-fitting pants for lounging and a button-down shirt that was open and unbuttoned. His features had changed like her own, and there were some tattoos that hadn’t been there before.
Scarlett merely took another bite of her pear. Maybe it wasn’t a dream? She really couldn’t tell.
“Scarlett,” Sorin said slowly.
She again said nothing. Just watched him, as if she were watching a play at the theater.
“Sorin,” came the man’s voice. “A little assistance here?”
Sorin’s eyes stayed fixed on Scarlett. He closed his fist, and the ring of flames guttered and died. The man’s shield of water disappeared immediately, and he seemed to be panting slightly, like he’d just exerted himself.
Sorin took a step towards Scarlett and a thin shield of flame formed around her, her shadows coiling to strike. Sorin's mouth twitched into a slight smile.
“Sorin, she has been sleeping for days. Her magic is fully replenished. Do not antagonize her.”
“I am well aware, Briar,” Sorin replied, slowly continuing towards Scarlett, the small smile still in place.
A flame leapt from Scarlett’s shield straight to Sorin, but he merely caught it in his hand, tossed it back and forth like a ball a few times, and then closed his fist around it, extinguishing the flame. She straightened and turned to look at the other man, but Sorin said in a low, commanding tone, “Here, Scarlett. Keep your eyes right here.”
Her eyes locked back onto his, and her pear thudded to the ground. Sorin. He was real. He was here with her. He had come for her. He had taken her from Mikale. He had not left her alone.
He was the godsdamned Prince of Fire. He had known her mother. He was responsible for her mother’s death. He had kept secrets from her. So many secrets.
Sorin stood right before her shield now. He placed a hand on it, as if placing his hand on a window. “Hey, Love.”
Scarlett narrowed her eyes at him. “Hello,Prince.” Hatred and venom dripped from that one title. They stared at each other for a long moment, then she said, “Is this real, or is this a dream?”
