Page 54 of Realm of Dreams & Shadows

“Holy shit! Holy freaking shit!” Tia’s voice is high with fear, her nails digging into my arm as we come to a dead stop.

The creature cocks its head, that terrible mouth stretching into a parody of a smile. When it speaks, the sound is like stones grinding together.

“Bride,” it rasps, reaching one elongated hand toward me. “He waits for you.”

Bride. That’s what Adric had called me too.

But I don’t have time to ponder as I lurch sideways, grabbing a decorative garden stake from a nearby planter. It’s a flimsy weapon, but better than nothing.

The creature laughs—a horrible, scraping sound. “That is no weapon against me, and the Hunter cannot protect you forever. King Adric will claim what is his.”

This thing works for Adric?

The horror of that reality knocks me off kilter just as the creature lunges forward, impossibly fast. I swing the stake, but it passes through the creature as if through smoke. Tia screams, yanking me backward as those clawed fingers rip open my shoulder, making me cry out in agony.

Through a red haze of pain, I see Tia raise her free hand, her lips moving, though I can barely make out a whisper. She’s probably saying a prayer to be rid of me.

For one odd second, it seems like her fingers glow, but then the illusion fades and she snaps out with, “Dammit!”

I have no freaking idea what she’s doing or what Vexarin is, but I grab her sleeve and tug her toward me as Onyx Eyes leaps forward, pushing us behind him before he lunges toward the monster. His blade flashes in the moonlight, but before he can strike, another figure materializes from the shadows.

Chase. Only now he’s moving with the same inhuman speed as the creature.

What the hell is going on?

“Whistler, get them back!” Chase shouts, his own blade appearing in his hand as if summoned from thin air. Just as he’s done in my dreams.

It’s true—oh, god, I was right! It’s true!

I, however, have no time to process that fun fact because Onyx Eyes—Whistler, I assume—is shoving me and Tia away from Chase and the monster.

“Vexarin,” Chase snarls, his voice deeper now, and achingly familiar. “You’re far from home.”

I watch over Whistler’s shoulder as the creature hisses, recoiling from Chase’s blade. “Hunter,” Vexarin sneers. “Always interfering.”

“It’s what I do.” Chase shifts his stance, the blade moving in a complex pattern that leaves trails of light in its wake. “Now crawl back to your own realm before I send you there in pieces.”

For a tense moment, the creature seems to consider its options. Then it smiles again, that terrible mouth stretching wider than should be possible.

“Soon,” it promises, shifting to fix its empty gaze on me. “Soon you will be his.”

With those words still hanging in the air, the creature melts into the shadows, leaving no trace of its presence except the lingering cold on my shoulder and the painful pounding of my heart against my ribs.

Chase turns to us, his golden eyes burning with an eerie light.

Whistler sheathes his blade and studies me. “It’s true, then? She is the Bride?”

“I keep hearing that,” I say. “But I’m not anybody’s damn bride. So what the hell is going on?”

Chase and Whistler exchange a glance.

“Dammit, just tell me.”

“You are the last of the bloodline,” Whistler says, which is no answer at all. “The Nightmare King will do whatever he must in order to claim you. To free himself from the castle and its grounds. And to bring down the barriers.”

“Oh,” I say, shifting to look at Chase. “I have no idea what any of that means.” And that’s true. But at the same time, I can’t help but think of a pair of hypnotic, silver eyes, that voice as smooth as honey whispering that I was his, and a kiss that stole all reason.

But a kiss isn’t a vow, no matter how delicious. And even though Adric had done quite a number on my girly parts, I’m not his or anyone’s bride.