Page 14 of Castle of Nevers and Nightmares

I try to scream, to resist, but nothing comes out. I’m paralyzed—whirled and twirled at their whims, blurring and flowing to someone else’s dance. The music grows faster and faster, but then suddenly stops.

Storm clouds gather on the horizon. Shadows darken the streets. Ice-cold wind buffets my face. A deep, entrancing voice whispers, “There you are, our queen.”

My mocking dance partners disappear. My feet touch solid ground. A ray of light breaks through the clouds to reveal six dark figures falling gracefully around me, their angelic owners twisting to kneel at my feet. They bow like knights, their wings spilling like silken shadows behind them. I am the center of their circle.

This feels familiar. Like I’ve been here before.

Their faces are beautiful carved renditions of perfection. Each more heart-stoppingly handsome than the next. The one with long dark hair has luminous skin like carved crystal. Sensuous lips curve at my surprise. He offers an elegant hand and murmurs in a voice oh so intimate, “Will you dance with us?”

Another says behind me, his fingers grazing my hips. “Will you be ours?”

My breath catches as I’m swept into arms, pulled into another’s warm embrace. It’s not like I imagined. Instead of cold fear, I feel safe and cherished. Accepted. Needed. Loved. A slow, tentative smile dares to touch my lips, and I start to float. Now I remember this feeling.

Five years ago, I connected with these six fallen angels on the battlefield. I found understanding, acceptance, need, and desire through one meeting of the eyes. They are beings trapped in the darkness.

Yes, little wolf. It is not night when we see your face.

My dance partner changes, his face morphing between the six, but he is always one in my arms. Always hauntingly beautiful. Their wings spread wide, flutter, and take us dancing above the square, spinning and spinning, laughing and singing. We are the envy of every beating heart. The females want to be me. The males want to bewithme.

This can’t be real.

Everyone should fear them. They should hate me.

This must be a dream.

The intrusive thought slams into me, and I fall. My angels tumble, too, swirling like autumn leaves in a tempest. They become devils, two with tails and horns. A glowing skull flickers beneath their skin. Sad wholly black eyes beseech me as if to say, “Don’t leave.”

“You’re not our queen,” the devil snarls in my ear.

Their words are lost in the musical wind. Rejection slams into my chest like a blade, cutting through my ribs and piercing the beating muscle beneath. It spasms. A scream erupts from somewhere deep within my lungs.

Jackknifing up, I wake in my bed, my blankets in disarray. As if I can stop my rapidly beating heart, I press my hand against my chest but feel Tinger’s pendant. Exhaling, I close my eyes against my room’s judgmental stare.

“It was a dream.” A nightmare. That’s all.

I felt sorry for myself before I fell asleep. I even thought of the Six then. In my dream, they looked different—almost human initially, but still monsters at the end.

I’d forgotten what they’d said to me five years ago... how, for a moment, I’d believed them.It is not night when we see your face.One had grabbed my ankle to stop me from fleeing up the airship’s ladder with Rory. He must have expected the Well-blessed mating bond to trigger like it had with my parents, but he was dismayed when no twin marks appeared on our arms. Decades of machinating and manipulation to sculpt me into their perfect mate were wasted.

“You’re nothing,”he spat at me, the battle still raging around us. His words hurt me so badly that I hurled my own back. “You’re monsters.”

I shiver and wrap my blankets around me.

“Just a weird dream,” I scoff, shaking my head. “Ridiculous.”

A foreign voice whispers through the shadows, “Yes, you are rather ridiculous.”

I tense. “Who’s there?”

The scent of lilacs and lichen increases.

“Titania, the Queen of Dreams. Who else?” A female emerges from the shadows. She is stunning, cut from the same luminous crystal as Legion was in my dream. Yet where his hair was a midnight waterfall, hers is rich brown and full of life. Inner warmth stains her cheeks with a blush.She’s flawless.Her diaphanous dress is spun moonlight, adorned with intricate embroidery and gemstones. A fur stole draping her shoulders rustles in a breeze I can’t feel. But it’s her tiara that catches my attention. It’s set with five types of gemstones. Oddly mismatched against her glowing, ethereal attire—a red stone, a milky stone, a dull granite, a black onyx, and—I gasp—a green marble. Irish Jade.

“How utterly subterranean of me...” She looms over my bed, lip curling with disgust as she grips my face between her forefinger and thumb. Pain slices into me like a hot blade. I try to move, but find my limbs are heavier than lead. Just like in my dream, I’m powerless. “...to think you, a mere mortal, as a rival to my radiance.” She leans down and whispers, “Dear, are you even aware of the gift you gave me? You left those six precious jewels practically swaying in the cruelty you so carelessly cast. When hearts as beaten as theirs dare to rise on the wings of dreams, it merely requires a whisper, and their fragile hopes fall like autumn leaves. The last person they thought would be so heartless was their one true queen.”

She shoves my head against the pillow, then she lets go. A sardonic laugh peels from her throat. It cuts as deeply as her words. It says they were right. I am nothing. I am more monstrous than them. Eventually, she sighs and steps away.

“Now I am their beacon in the darkness,” she declares, voice sweet and sour like rancid wine. “I am the answer to their deepest yearnings—a realm where no one looks upon them as nightmares, where they are venerated like radiant deities. I’ve witnessed your tragic dreams, dearest. They’re ghastly and teeming with wild, violent tempests. You belong with the other nightmares. It’s high time your realm acknowledges that, too. When you rise on the morrow, your visage will mirror the ugliness lurking within your heart.” The sting of a thousand ants nips my skin, and I gasp, finally wrenching my gaze from her face. Her next words fade with her into the shadows. “Oh, and before I forget... your tongue shall be bound from revealing who cursed you and why. Relish the remainder of your fleeting dance beneath the sun, mortal child.”

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